From above, six equidistant lines of force descend together. As they go lower, they flare outwards to spread across the world in all directions.

As they move into the distance, the lines branch off and interconnect with other things wherever they may, no longer single lines traveling in straight paths. They grow into a more organic web of expanding cooperation, although their roots above remain.

Many outstretched hands rotate in both directions around a central column of space, with their fingers spread and pointing upward and their palms always facing the center. The fingertips angle away from the center, and the appearance is almost like a bowl shape made of the rotating hands, with a hole in the base.

Through the central column passes something subtle and precious which the hands are blessing and protecting and also benefitting from, as if they are warmed and nourished by its presence like sunlight. It is like a kind of light, or perhaps the subtle presence is luminous. It has a quality similar to a warm breeze.

Above and below the ring of hands are other similar rings, with fewer hands in smaller rings above, and more hands in larger rings below.

The perspective is pulled into the light, and emerges in the air above a vibrant forest landscape, with trees whose leaves are like flower petals, if flower petals were like jewels. The beauty and fullness of life of the place exceeds description. A thunderstorm is in the sky in the distance, and the air is alive with tension and power.

Everything in this place is connected to everything else. Nothing is merely itself but instead consumes and is consumed by everything. The life and the environment is in constant change from one thing into another, and as a whole nature becomes itself, from itself.

The perspective widens to show that everywhere at all scales is the same, with suns consuming worlds and birthing new ones when they die, with space itself both cradling and dispersing  all the things that are.

The perspective is that of someone walking forward through a field in the early morning, with the horizon still red from the sunrise and mist rising from the dewy grasses. Behind the walker are many other people spread out in a line to either side. They are being led forth for some important purpose.

At first there is a feeling that the people are marching to battle, but this feeling shifts and becomes more concerned with the necessity of survival. Perhaps the people are being led to a new land to settle, or perhaps there is no sure destination and the group is exploring.

The focus, either way, is on the perspective of the leader, their resolve and their responsibility to those who follow.

There is fog and rain and chaos, and the perspective floats in midair with the impression of nakedness. Everywhere is the maelstrom.

These are the same forces which when gentler, gave rise to you. On their edges, the moisture formed you and the wind stirred you into being. Closer to the center of the force, there is danger – a necessary price.

As such, you are an extension of the Storm. Knowingly or not, you are one of its many arms and eyes, one with the creator and the destroyer of life.

From a central point, crackling streamers of pale violet lightning rise upwards. They are searching for something to be grounded by, something to infuse and enliven. The power of the electricity is unguided by anything but the compatibility of whatever might receive it, but there is a certain intelligence to its quest.

It is chaotic potential seeking the stability of ordered expression, and when the two meet life will be made manifest.

There is a mountain of grey stone, almost perfectly conical and smooth in appearance. A stream of water pours from high above its summit, and after touching the peak the stream spirals down the mountain several times, clockwise if it were to be viewed from above. The spiral itself slowly rotates counterclockwise. There is a sense that the mountain is being purified and prepared.

The view ascends to the source of the stream up above – it is a single hand, vanishing just above the wrist where the waters appear. The fingers are open and relaxed, angled down and to the left. The waters trickle gently through the fingers  along whatever course they please in ever-changing rivulets. It is because the hand is relaxed and does not try to direct the flow that the water flows at all.

Something like a great circle appears in the sky above, with five lines radiating from the center like the spokes of a wheel. It rotates slowly clockwise, and the number and position of the spokes subtly changes and shifts, so that there are sometimes more spokes and sometimes less, and they are sometimes distributed evenly and sometimes unevenly.

There is the impression that if this is a wheel, it is not a very good one, that the spokes would not evenly distribute weight, and that if this is some revealed mechanism of the cosmos, it would explain the apparent chaos of the world. However, there is also a sense that the wheel is not understood, and that thinking that it is a wheel at all contributes to the misunderstanding. It is not the cosmic mechanism which is lacking but clarity of perception and judgment.

There is a beautiful living thing of incredible complexity. It has the form of a flower with a nearly infinite number of fine, hair like petals of white, pink and dark red.

The flower is blooming, but some of the petals are also closing up. The two movements happen at the same time, so that the flower is both blooming and closing up depending on perspective.

There is a feeling that the beautiful complexity is simply too much to unravel and understand with the mind.

In a rocky desert location, several pillars of irregular red stone shoot up from the ground in a circular formation. The pillars rise at different rates and form a spiral which could be ascended or descended by jumping from pillar to pillar. The rise of the pillars is very fast, and felt to be a good thing. The point was to ascend, even if the height and speed comes as a surprise.

However, as the perspective gets higher and higher, the success of the rapid ascent turns to worries about the great height, and the difficult and potentially dangerous necessity of descending by leaping from pillar to pillar. The lofty attainment has come with natural consequences which were not considered beforehand, or at least the unexpected success has outpaced any preparations which could be made.

A sheet of fabric appears, rippling slightly before it settles on a table, and is smoothed flat by a pair of hands. Looking up, they belong to a woman. She is beautiful and has the feeling of a young mother and a wise teacher. Her eyes have a deep understanding and kindness. She is wearing clothes of white, red, pink and green, the same colors as the layers of fabric she works with. Her hair is covered, her eyes are pale and bright, and she is smiling.

She is teaching her craft, showing how to cut, and how to sew together, and the reasons to do one or the other. There is a clear sense that the fabric is something more important than it appears.

Her presence is deeply patient and comforting, and I am reluctant to leave.

Grey metal bars bent at angles appear in midair. There is a sense of them being in motion as if suspended from wires, and they are part of some great work of construction or engineering., or will form the scaffolding for it.

I am also suspended among the bars, as if I am responsible for the great work. My movements and actions must be conducted with care, as swinging between the bars of metal carries risk, although the movement itself is graceful.

The importance and beauty of the planned construction is felt throughout the scene.

Light rain trickles through the grooves in tree bark, and I am a squirrel. I am dry, and this is my home. I climb higher up the trunk until I reach a branch to perch upon while I gnaw an acorn.

I wouldn’t want to go out into the rain, and I don’t need to. Surrounded by leaves and pine needles, there is a feeling of contentment as I look out at the tranquil, dripping forest and enjoy my meal.

The tree is home and shelter and refuge and nourishment, and there is nowhere else for me to be.

Bare tree branches spring into view from either side suddenly, like forks of lightning. The perspective is from above. A single person walks on a narrow path through the bare trees and dead leaves.

It is a lonely path, but they are not alone. Other presences watch from the dark forest. It is wise to stay on the path and not be tempted astray.

It is also wise not to despair, for not all who watch bear danger. After all, the perspective of the Oracle is with the lone walker.

A line streaks downwards diagonally from the left like a raindrop, and forms a grass stalk as it hits the ground, which is fertile soil. The scene is suffused with overcast predawn light, fields of the same grass appear, stretching into the distance. There is a sense that they are reddening with the dawn, and are grain plants, possibly amaranth.

The view of the field expands, it is well tended and plowed with many rows of grain, though not ready for harvest. The rain is gentle and nourishing, as is the rising sun. All the required elements for bounty are present, only time is needed.

From pitch darkness, lines of glowing red appear like cracks in the earth. At first there are two small arcs, opposed and symmetrical. After breaking through, the lines thicken and their glow intensifies, and after a moment this causes another pair of identical cracks to break through below those which came before.

The cracks form a series moving downwards, always in the same symmetrical pattern. The volcanism is never explosive; the tension only builds until it is released by the arising of another pair of cracks.

After several repetitions, the lava from above is reminiscent of the back plates of a lobster, or a chain, or a spinal cord.

Ripples flow in gently from the right, and weave into a surface of calm water. A single green shoot, tender and new, emerges from the silt below.

It begins to rise, and when it breaks above the watersl it divides, producing two fresh leaves. After a pause, it continues growing and dividing, until long vines intertwine and weave a layer covering the water completely.

They could be walked upon, but should not be. The growth is still too supple and the strain might tear through the new life and soak the walker.

It is wiser to wait until things are more firmly established.

Several rays of intense white light burst through thick clouds above a mountain top, radiating in all downward directions.

From their origin point, a luminous being begins to descend, with wings spread out and angled downward. It is made of the same intense light.

The mountain is alone and central to the landscape. It is covered with forest, and the area around its base is inhabited, with several small buildings visible.