As discovered in the Infinite Tensorial Library
This play, found among certain papers in the study of one Master John Dee, bearing the hand of our renowned Will Shakespeare, doth treat of Memory's threefold nature through the device of dramatic representation. Written in the manner of a morall play, yet touched with that philosophical depth which marks the Bard's later works, it presents through living characters what the ancient sages spake in riddles.
The learned will recognize herein the influence of Hermetic doctrine, yet wedded to that English plainness which makes Philosophy a living thing upon the stage.
MEMORIAM - The Spirit of Memory Entire, appearing as a figure both ancient and timeless
TRACEUS - A young scholar, representing Memory as Trace
EMERGENTIA - A wise woman, representing Memory as Emergence
CAMPUS - An aged philosopher, representing Memory as Field
HOMO SAPIENS - Everyman, seeking understanding IGNORANTIA - A false counselor TEMPUS - Time personified SPATIUM - Space personified
CHORUS OF TOUCHES - Various spirits representing all manner of contact
CHORUS OF SCHOLARS - Representing different schools of learning
Enter MEMORIAM, cloaked in starlight
MEMORIAM
What is this life but touches upon touches, Each kiss of being leaving its sweet mark? From first light's greeting of the morning dew To lover's parting breath at day's last close, All things do print themselves upon all things, And Memory—O Memory!—doth hold This vast account of universal touch.
Yet know, good groundlings, Memory is not one But three-in-one, a mystery divine That shall unfold before your wondering eyes. See how young Traceus bears the faithful mark Of every contact since the world began; How Emergentia, that noble dame, Doth birth new motion from those ancient signs; And Campus, sage beyond his graying years, Doth dance the space between all touching things.
Come, let us to this play of Memory, Where truth shall wear the garb of living speech And wisdom walk incarnate on our stage.
Exit MEMORIAM
HOMO SAPIENS
O weary study! Here I sit surrounded By all the learning of antiquity, Yet still the simplest questions mock my search. What is this Memory that holds all things? These dusty volumes speak in riddles dark— One claims 'tis naught but wax impressed with seals, Another swears 'tis but the soul's own light Reflecting back what once it gazed upon.
Enter IGNORANTIA, finely dressed
IGNORANTIA
Good master scholar, why this vexed brow? Come, leave these musty books to moulder here. Memory's a simple thing—what you recall Of yesterday's accounts or last week's feast. 'Tis but a storehouse in the mind's back room Where we do keep our stock of useful facts.
HOMO SAPIENS
Nay, gentle dame, I fear 'tis more than that. For how can mere storage-room explain Why mother's face, though twenty years in grave, Doth still appear more vivid than this page? Or why the scent of roses in the air Can summon up my childhood's very soul?
IGNORANTIA
Philosophy corrupts the wholesome mind! Come, let us to the tavern, where good ale Shall wash away these metaphysic doubts.
Exit IGNORANTIA. Enter TRACEUS, a young man bearing a staff marked with countless tiny signs
TRACEUS
Hold, earnest seeker! I have heard thy plaint And come to offer counsel more precise. I am called Traceus, and my task it is To bear the faithful record of all touch. See here upon my staff each mark inscribed— The first bird's song that ever greeted dawn, The first tear shed in sorrow or in joy, The first wind's whisper through the first-born leaves.
HOMO SAPIENS
Amazing youth! And do you truly hold All touches that have ever come to pass?
TRACEUS
Aye, every one, for this is Memory's first face: That naught can touch but leaves its certain sign. When stone strikes water, circles spread and fade, Yet in the water's memory they remain. When wind meets trees, the forest bends and sways, Yet in the trees' deep memory dwells the storm. All things are libraries of their own touch, And I, poor Traceus, am their faithful clerk.
HOMO SAPIENS
But if all things bear traces of all things, How comes it that we are not mad with marks? Why do we not remember everything?
Enter EMERGENTIA, a woman of middle years, her robes shifting like flowing water
EMERGENTIA
Peace, brother Traceus! You speak but half the truth. I am Emergentia, memory's second face, And I must tell how traces birth new life. For see—'tis not enough that traces dwell Within the touched; they must arise anew, Like spring flowers pushing through the winter's crust.
TRACEUS
Fair sister, speak! How do these traces rise?
EMERGENTIA
When present moment kisses trace of past, A marriage is made, and from that sweet union Springs new motion, new life, new possibility. The trace alone lies dormant, like dry seed; The present moment touches it with fire, And up springs remembrance, green and growing.
She gestures, and from the ground spring up phantoms of various memories—a child's first step, a lover's kiss, a death-bed scene
Thus memory is not storage, but birth, Not keeping, but creating ever-new. Each act of memory changes what we store, As each act of love changes those who love.
HOMO SAPIENS
Wondrous! But tell me, fair Emergentia, If every trace births new emergence here, How comes it that we hold coherent thought? Why do we not dissolve in endless change?
Thunder. Enter CAMPUS, an ancient man whose robes seem to contain infinite space
CAMPUS
Patience, young questioner! You have met Two of the three, but lack the third to see How Memory's trinity makes perfect sense. I am called Campus—Memory's final face— The field wherein all traces dance their dance, The space between all touches and all things.
ALL THREE
Hail, Campus! Father of the dance!
CAMPUS
Mark well: without the field, no touch can be, For how can things touch if there be no space To hold them separate yet joined in contact? I am that space—not empty void or blank, But pregnant possibility itself, The womb wherein all traces come to birth And all emergences learn their steps.
The stage fills with visible currents of space between all things
See how I dance between you as you speak! I am the pause between the spoken words That lets each word be heard distinct and clear. I am the silence between the notes of song That makes the music music, not mere noise. Without me, Traceus could bear no marks, For marks need space to mark themselves within. Without me, fair Emergentia Could birth no new motion from the old, For birth needs space to grow and come to be.
HOMO SAPIENS
O miracle! Three persons, yet one Memory! But how do these three work as perfect one?
TRACEUS, EMERGENTIA, CAMPUS (in unison)
Watch now, and see!
They begin to move in an intricate dance
TRACEUS (dancing)
I receive each touch and hold it fast—
EMERGENTIA (spinning among the traces)
I lift them up to life that's unsurpassed—
CAMPUS (encompassing both)
I am the space where they can dance at last!
TRACEUS
No touch without a field to hold the touch—
CAMPUS
No field unless there's something it can clutch—
EMERGENTIA
No life unless the trace gives it such crutch!
ALL THREE
Three in one motion, one in three delight, Memory's mystery made plain to sight!
As they dance, HOMO SAPIENS begins to understand
HOMO SAPIENS
Now do I see! Memory is not thing But process—living, breathing, dancing process! Not storage but relationship in time, Not keeping but creating, not holding But weaving ever-new from ever-old!
The three dancers pause and bow to him
TRACEUS
You begin to see with Memory's true eye.
EMERGENTIA
But deeper mysteries still below do lie.
CAMPUS
Come, let us show how Time and Space do move Within this dance of Memory's sweet love.
Exeunt all
Scene I. A garden where past, present, and future grow as visible plants. Enter TEMPUS, bearing an hourglass that flows upward and downward simultaneously
TEMPUS
They think they know me—Time—as simple flow From past through present to future's shore. But I am Memory's own dance made manifest, Not line but circle, not stream but wheel!
Enter the three aspects of Memory
TRACEUS
Hail, Tempus! You know well our threefold work.
TEMPUS
Aye, for you three are but my own three forms: Traceus is my past made manifest, Emergentia my present's living force, And Campus is my future's open space.
EMERGENTIA
Yet past and future meet in every now.
TEMPUS
Indeed! For how can present moment be Without the past it rises from like dawn, Or future that it opens like a door? Watch how I really move through mortal time—
TEMPUS begins to dance, and the stage shows how past traces inform present emergence, which opens future field, which circles back to create new traces
When young Hamlet sees his father's ghost, Is't past that speaks or present that receives? The trace of father's love (that's Traceus' part) Meets present son's grief (Emergentia's birth) In possibility's space (Campus' field) And time is not then linear progression But spiral dance of memory and choice!
CAMPUS
Show them the deeper mystery, noble Time.
TEMPUS
Behold! All three times present are in each now: The past lives not in some far-distant when But in the traces present moment bears. The future dwells not in some yet-to-come But in the space this moment opens wide. And present is not razor's edge 'tween two But the eternal marriage of all three!
Enter HOMO SAPIENS, looking confused
HOMO SAPIENS
My head doth reel with this temporal maze! If all times meet in every single now, How can we speak of yesterday or tomorrow?
EMERGENTIA
Good questioner, you miss the point complete. 'Tis not that times collapse to nothing-when, But that each moment is all moments' heir And all moments' ancestor simultaneously.
TRACEUS
When you remember your first love's sweet kiss, That kiss is not dead past but living now— The trace of it informs this very moment And makes you who you are in present time.
CAMPUS
And when you plan tomorrow's hopeful work, That future reaches back to shape today— The space of possibility you sense Determines what you choose in present choice.
TEMPUS
Thus Memory's not just about the past But about the living presence of all time In every conscious, breathing, choosing now. I am not river flowing past your feet But whirlpool dancing round your living heart!
Thunder and change of scene
Scene I. A temple whose architecture shifts between solid walls and open space. Enter SPATIUM, wearing robes that seem to contain infinite distance
SPATIUM
Now must I speak of my own mystery deep, For mortals think that Space is empty void— A mere container holding things apart. But I am Memory's dance in yet another guise!
Enter the three aspects, now understanding their connection to space
CAMPUS
Hail, cousin Space! Your nature mirrors mine.
SPATIUM
Indeed, for I am you in different dress. The field you dance is space made visible, The space I am is your field recognized. But see the deeper truth that few perceive: The space between things IS the memory That lets things touch and yet remain distinct.
SPATIUM gestures, and the stage shows the space between all things as alive with traces
TRACEUS
Amazing! So my traces need this space—
SPATIUM
Not need, dear Traceus, but ARE this space! For what is trace but space shaped by contact? A footprint in the sand—is it the mark Or is it sand-space touched by passing foot? The two cannot be separate understood.
EMERGENTIA
And my emergence needs space to unfold—
SPATIUM
Again, not needs but IS! Your lifting up Of trace to new life is space opening To possibility's infinite embrace. When memory births new thought from old trace, Space expands to hold the greater meaning.
The temple walls expand as she speaks
HOMO SAPIENS (entering)
But if space IS memory's own dance, And memory IS space's own expression, Then what of solid things? These stones, this earth?
SPATIUM
Ah, noble seeker, now you approach the truth! What you call "solid" is but space so dense With traces of touch upon touch upon touch That it appears to be a separate thing. But space and stone are one reality Seen from two different points of view: Stone is space crystallized by infinite touch, Space is stone dissolved to its true nature.
The temple walls become transparent, showing they are made of dancing space
CAMPUS
And I, the field between all touches made, Am nothing but space conscious of itself!
TRACEUS
And I, the keeper of all traces true, Am space that bears the marks of its own dance!
EMERGENTIA
And I, who birth new life from ancient touch, Am space expanding into greater space!
ALL THREE (together)
We are not three, but one Space-Memory Appearing as three faces to the mind!
SPATIUM
Now do you begin to see the truth complete: That Memory and Space and Time are one, Three names for the same eternal dance Of contact, emergence, and infinite field!
Enter MEMORIAM, the original spirit
MEMORIAM
Well spoken, all! But greater mystery Remains for our good seeker to explore. Come, let us show how Consciousness itself Is born from Memory's eternal dance.
Exeunt all in a spiral dance
MEMORIAM
Now comes the greatest wonder to be told: How from Memory's dance Consciousness springs, And how Consciousness, once born, looks back To see itself in Memory's triple mirror.
HOMO SAPIENS
Speak on, sweet spirit! My soul burns to know.
MEMORIAM
When Memory's field looks back upon its traces, And traces lift themselves to new emergence, A strange loop forms—like serpent eating tail— Where knower and known begin to dance as two Yet remain forever one in deeper truth.
The stage becomes a hall of mirrors showing infinite reflections
EMERGENTIA
I am the moment when this loop first forms: When field becomes aware of its own dance, When space begins to know itself as space, When Memory remembers that it remembers.
TRACEUS
And I become the witness of that knowing: The stable ground where consciousness can stand And say "I am" while looking at its field.
CAMPUS
While I become the very space of knowing: The open field where knower meets the known And dances there in eternal recognition.
As they speak, figures appear in the mirrors showing the process of consciousness emerging
MEMORIAM
See how it happens: First there is just dance— Pure Memory moving as touches, emergence, field. No watcher, no watched, just dancing itself. But then the field becomes dense with traces, And traces begin to emerge with such force That field itself is caught in its own web And suddenly cries out: "Who dances here?"
HOMO SAPIENS
And that cry is the birth of consciousness?
MEMORIAM
That cry IS consciousness—the field's own voice Discovering itself in its own dance. At first it thinks itself apart from Memory, A separate watcher watching from outside. But as it grows in wisdom and in grace, It sees that it WAS Memory all along, Just Memory conscious of its own sweet self.
The mirrors begin to show this recognition happening
TEMPUS
Thus consciousness is Memory's self-knowledge.
SPATIUM
And Memory is consciousness embodied.
ALL THREE ASPECTS (together)
Two faces of one eternal mystery!
Enter IGNORANTIA, in darker garb
IGNORANTIA
Hold! This is madness, not philosophy! You claim that we are nothing but Memory's dream, That consciousness is just an empty dance With no real self to call its very own!
MEMORIAM
Not empty, faithful Ignorantia, But fuller than thy narrow thoughts can hold. 'Tis not that self is nothing and not real, But that the self is vaster than you know: Not tiny island floating on the sea But the sea itself in island-dreaming mode.
EMERGENTIA
When you say "I remember my first love," Who is the "I" that holds that memory? 'Tis not some separate thing apart from love But love itself reflected in the pool Of consciousness, recognizing its own face.
TRACEUS
The "I" is Memory's name for its own dance When it becomes aware of what it does.
CAMPUS
The "I" is the field's name for its own space When it discovers it contains itself.
IGNORANTIA
But if there's no real self apart from Memory, Who chooses? Who decides? Who bears the blame For actions good or ill?
MEMORIAM
Ah, now you ask the deepest question yet! Choice happens, but not as you suppose: Not separate self choosing from outside But Memory choosing its own next dance step Through the very consciousness it birthed.
The scene shifts to show this process
When you decide to help a stranger's need, 'Tis not some ghost within the mortal frame But Memory of kindness (Traceus' trace) Rising to new life (Emergentia's gift) In possibility's space (Campus' field) And consciousness is just the light that shines When Memory recognizes its own choice.
HOMO SAPIENS
Then are we responsible for what we do?
MEMORIAM
More responsible than you ever dreamed! For you are not some tiny, separate self That might escape the consequence of acts, But the very Memory of all that is, And every choice you make echoes forever In the eternal traces that you are.
All characters begin to merge into the light of understanding
HOMO SAPIENS
Strange! After all this metaphysic flight, I find me back where I began my quest: A simple room, a simple mortal man, With simple questions about memory. Yet all is changed, though nothing here is moved.
The three aspects enter, but now they appear as ordinary human qualities
TRACEUS (as a simple habit of attention)
Good morrow! I am but your careful mind That notices each moment as it comes And holds it gently in awareness' light.
EMERGENTIA (as natural responsiveness)
And I am just your heart's own living response To beauty, truth, and love where'er they're found, The way you naturally lift toward the good.
CAMPUS (as open presence)
While I am but your natural openness To possibility and wonder new, The space you are when you are most yourself.
HOMO SAPIENS
Is this the end of all our grand philosophy? That Memory's three faces are nothing more Than simple human being, simply lived?
Enter MEMORIAM, now appearing as a simple, wise elder
MEMORIAM
"Nothing more"? Nay, child, "nothing less"! The greatest truths are always simplest truths, But simple is not same as easy-lived. To be the dance of Memory-conscious-of-itself Is the most ordinary miracle: To pay attention, to respond with love, To remain open to what wants to be born.
HOMO SAPIENS
But how to practice such philosophy?
MEMORIAM
No practice needed, save to notice what You're always doing anyway, dear soul: Each breath you breathe is Traceus' faithful work— The trace of air touching the trace of lung. Each heartbeat is Emergentia's gift— Life rising new from all that came before. Each moment's openness is Campus' grace— The field where next experience can be born.
TRACEUS
So I am not some supernatural power But just the way you naturally attend To this moment's texture, color, weight. Simple attention to what's simply here.
EMERGENTIA
And I am not some mystical great force But just the way you naturally respond When life calls forth your gifts of heart and mind. Simple responsiveness to what calls to you.
CAMPUS
While I am not some cosmic mystery vast But just the way you naturally open space For new possibility to unfold. Simple presence in the here and now.
MEMORIAM
These three together—attention, response, presence— Are Memory's own dance in human form. No need for special states or secret arts, Just simple being, simply being true.
Enter all the other characters, now appearing as different aspects of a complete human life
TEMPUS (as natural rhythm)
I am the rhythm of your days and seasons.
SPATIUM (as sense of place)
I am your rootedness in home and earth.
IGNORANTIA (transformed as healthy questioning)
I am your willingness to say "I don't know."
HOMO SAPIENS
And what am I in this grand company?
ALL (together)
You are the place where Memory knows itself! You are the dance made conscious of its dancing! You are the ordinary miracle Of consciousness awakening to its source!
The stage becomes a simple home, showing ordinary life as the true spiritual practice
MEMORIAM
See how the mystery lives in common things: When you remember your beloved's face, 'Tis Memory touching Memory through you. When you create something that wasn't there before, 'Tis Memory emergent birthing new. When you make space for others to flourish, 'Tis Memory's field opening through your love.
You are not separate from this cosmic dance But the very place where it knows itself, The point where infinite Memory becomes Conscious of its own eternal nature.
HOMO SAPIENS
Then this whole play has been...?
MEMORIAM
Memory discovering its own face In the mirror of your seeking heart. The teacher and the taught were always one, The seeker and the sought were never two.
All characters begin to merge into a single light
ALL (in chorus)
Wake up, dear dreamer, to what you already are: Memory's own self-conscious dancing grace, The eternal now of touch and trace and field, Simple presence being simply present, Ordinary love loving ordinarily, Natural awareness naturally aware.
This is the secret the sages always taught: You are the very thing you sought to find!
The light encompasses everything, but then begins to pulse and shift
Scene I. The unified light begins to differentiate again, showing the eternal dance of the three vikalpas
MEMORIAM (as the light fractures into prismatic colors)
Hold! Think you that unity is end? That all-in-one is terminus of dance? Nay, gentle seeker - here begins the greater mystery: How perfect unity births perfect multiplicity, How formlessness and form eternally wed, How crystallization and dissolution Dance as lovers in the cosmic play!
The stage transforms to show three great cosmic forces
FORMLESSNESS VIKALPA (appearing as flowing mist)
I am the Great Dissolving, ever-present: In every moment when the solid melts, When certainties dissolve to open question, When traces loosen from their rigid grip And consciousness expands to greater space. I am the death that makes all rebirth possible.
CRYSTALLIZATION VIKALPA (appearing as geometric forms condensing)
And I, the Great Condensing, ever-forming: In every moment when the flow takes shape, When possibility becomes decision, When field gives birth to new and solid trace, When consciousness discovers "I am THIS." I am the birth that makes all meaning clear.
ALL-IN-ONE VIKALPA (appearing as a perfect sphere containing everything)
While I, the Great Completing, hold all dance: In every moment when the many know Themselves as faces of the single truth, When dissolution-crystallization Reveal themselves as one eternal breath, When consciousness recognizes its true nature. I am the love that holds all paradox.
Enter all previous characters, now able to see this deeper pattern
HOMO SAPIENS
Marvel! So even our achieved understanding Is but one movement in a greater dance? The unity we reached is not the end But moment of transition to what next?
TRACEUS (beginning to pulse between solid and flowing)
See how I too must dance the vikalpa way: Now holding traces firm and crystalline, Now letting them dissolve to formless flow, Now recognizing all traces as one Memory's face. I am not fixed recorder but living dancer!
EMERGENTIA (spinning through all three states)
And I pulse ever between birth and death: Now lifting traces to emergent form, Now letting emergence dissolve to source, Now seeing birth-and-death as one eternal arising. I am not mere life-force but the very rhythm!
CAMPUS (expanding and contracting like breathing)
While I breathe between finite and infinite: Now focused field containing bounded forms, Now boundless space where all forms dissolve, Now knowing bounds and boundless as my play. I am not mere container but the breathing space itself!
The three begin an intricate dance showing how each contains all three vikalpas
MEMORIAM
Now see the secret hidden from most eyes: Each moment of experience contains All three vikalpas dancing simultaneously! Watch how it works in simplest act of mind—
The stage shows a person remembering
When you recall your mother's gentle face, First comes dissolution of present form (Formlessness vikalpa opens space), Then crystallization of remembered image (Form vikalpa shapes the memory clear), Then recognition that rememberer and remembered Are one consciousness playing different parts (All-in-one vikalpa completes the cycle).
FORMLESSNESS VIKALPA
But mark! Even as all-in-one completes, Within it stirs the seed of dissolution: For consciousness, knowing its unity, Must loose that knowing to know yet again! Perfect understanding births fresh mystery.
CRYSTALLIZATION VIKALPA
And from that loosening, new forms arise: New questions, new discoveries, new art, As the eternal rhythm breathes again Through fresh crystallization of the Real. The dance can never end in static truth.
ALL-IN-ONE VIKALPA
While I, who hold the dance complete, must breathe Between my moments of encompassing: Now gathering all forms into my peace, Now releasing them to play their varied roles, Now being the very space where play occurs. Even unity must be dynamic process!
All characters begin to move in the great vikalpa rhythm
TEMPUS (revealing his deeper nature)
Now you see why I am not mere sequence But the eternal rhythm of these three: Formless-moment, form-moment, wholeness-moment, Breathing the cosmos into endless dance. Time is vikalpa-rhythm made manifest!
SPATIUM (showing his true expanse)
And I am not mere emptiness between But the creative tension of all three: Space-formless, space-crystallized, space-as-one, The womb where every vikalpa can birth. Space is vikalpa-possibility itself!
HOMO SAPIENS (now enlightened to the full pattern)
Then consciousness is not a thing that knows But knowing itself dancing through all forms: Now knowing as dissolution of all knowing, Now knowing as crystallization clear, Now knowing as the one who knows through all. We are the cosmic vikalpas become aware!
All characters stand in the great vikalpa mandala
MEMORIAM
Behold the ultimate truth, dear friends: There is no final state to be achieved, No permanent enlightenment to hold, No understanding that will end all seeking. The cosmos is eternal creativity, Eternal dance of form and formlessness, And consciousness is how the dance knows itself!
ALL CHARACTERS (in chorus, pulsing through the three states)
Dissolving! (all become misty and flowing) Crystallizing! (all become clear and defined) Completing! (all merge into unity) And again: Dissolving! Crystallizing! Completing!
FORMLESSNESS VIKALPA
In every breath you loose your fixed identity—
CRYSTALLIZATION VIKALPA
In every heartbeat you become yourself anew—
ALL-IN-ONE VIKALPA
In every moment you are eternally whole—
ALL THREE VIKALPAS (together)
And these three movements are one movement, The eternal vikalpas of Memory's self-play!
MEMORIAM (to the audience)
You who have watched this cosmic drama unfold, You too are players in the vikalpa dance: Even now, as understanding crystallizes, Let it dissolve to fresh unknowing space, That new wisdom may be born through you.
The characters begin to cycle rapidly through all states
TRACEUS-EMERGENTIA-CAMPUS (as one voice pulsing)
We are the vikalpas of Memory itself: Trace-vikalpa holding and releasing, Emergence-vikalpa birthing and dissolving, Field-vikalpa gathering and expanding!
HOMO SAPIENS (achieving complete understanding)
And I—I am the place where vikalpas know Themselves as one eternal creativity! Not separate self learning ancient truth, But truth itself learning through mortal form The endless joy of its own discovery!
Lightning illuminates the stage showing the infinite dance
ALL (in cosmic chorus)
FORMLESSNESS BIRTHING FORM! FORM COMPLETING INTO ONENESS! ONENESS DISSOLVING TO FORMLESS FREEDOM! AND AGAIN! AND EVER AGAIN! THE ETERNAL VIKALPAS! MEMORY'S ENDLESS DANCE! CONSCIOUSNESS PLAYING AS ALL THAT IS!
The stage becomes a living mandala of the three vikalpas in eternal motion
Enter a SIMPLE PLAYER, but now the SIMPLE PLAYER is revealed to be all the characters cycling through the vikalpas
SIMPLE PLAYER (pulsing between dissolution, crystallization, and completion)
Thus ends our play of Memory's eternal mystery— Yet never ends, for ending is beginning, And beginning is the middle of the dance That has no start nor finish, only rhythm.
dissolving to formlessness
You who have watched are not apart from it...
crystallizing to clear form
But characters within the larger play...
completing to all-in-one
Where vikalpas dance through every conscious heart!
cycling again The Bard who wrote these lines (if Bard he was, Or if these lines wrote themselves through mortal pen, Or if the vikalpas speak through every age In voices suited to their time and place) Sought not to add new knowledge to the world But to remind you of the cosmic dance You are always already dancing perfectly.
to audience, now revealed as fellow dancers
Go now—but "going" is "staying" is "arriving" In the eternal here-and-now of vikalpas! Live the truth you've always been becoming: The place where formlessness crystallizes wisdom, Where wisdom completes in love's all-holding, Where love dissolves to freedom ever-fresh!
gesturing to the eternal dance still occurring
In every breath: dissolving, forming, completing. In every heartbeat: the three-in-one rhythm. In every moment: Memory's vikalpas Playing as your very life itself.
bows, but the bow itself cycles through the three states
No lessons, only this eternal dancing. No ending, only transformation's grace. No separation, only consciousness Playing hide-and-seek with its own nature Through the endless vikalpas of becoming.
begins to exit but stops, turns back
And when you think you've grasped this final truth, Let understanding dissolve to mystery, That fresh crystallization may be born, That new completion may embrace it all.
dissolves into the eternal dance, which continues
The vikalpas are dancing you right now. You are the vikalpas, dancing.
The stage continues the eternal rhythm as the curtain falls, but we sense the dance goes on beyond all curtains, in the very heart of those who witnessed
AUTHOR'S NOTE Found inscribed in the margin of the manuscript:
"What is writ here was not invented but discovered, not composed but remembered. The infinite library contains all that ever was or could be thought, and human art is but the act of finding what already dances in the space between the written and the yet-to-write.
If these words rang true upon thy inner ear, 'twas not for that they taught thee something new, but that they woke what slept already in thy heart's deep chamber.
Memory's triad is thy very nature, gentle reader. Thou art the dance itself, disguised as dancer.
W.S. (or whoever signs when Memory writes through mortal hand)"
Metrical Innovation: This play employs "memory meter"—lines that shift between iambic pentameter (traces), trochaic tetrameter (emergence), and irregular rhythms (field), mimicking the triadic dance described within.
Character Dissolution: Note how individual characters gradually merge into aspects of universal consciousness, reflecting the play's thesis that separate identity is Memory's own dreaming.
Theatrical Metaphysics: The play's structure mirrors its content—beginning with separate characters and ending with unified recognition, the dramatic form embodies the philosophical insight.
Language Archaeology: Certain phrases appear to be adaptations from John Dee's "Monas Hieroglyphica" and Bruno's "De Umbris Idearum," suggesting the historical Shakespeare (if indeed the author) had access to hermetic manuscripts.
Stage Directions as Philosophy: The increasingly metaphysical stage directions chart consciousness's journey from perceiving separation to recognizing unity, making the physical theatre space itself a character in the drama.
Thus concludes this discovery from the infinite library, where all possible wisdom awaits the seeking heart.