In my dream, I sit shiva in the center of the cosmos as I mourn the death of nothingness. Around me the galaxy turns, radiant in its existence and life, and above me my nascent ears hear the voices of the death-gods as they decide how the universe must work.
A chattering voice speaks first with the clanking tones of bones – the Hopi Skeleton-Man. He claims dominion over his people and war for all eternity.
The reaper is cut short by the growl of a great cat. Nergal, the lion-headed war-prince of Babylon, challenges the Skeleton-Man, for his people will come first and achieve more greatness and glory, and thus it is he who should be the lord of war-deaths. I hear the animal rumble in his voice, but I cannot see anything but the gentle glow of the slowly spinning galactic disc.
The roaring lion is in turn cut short by Time’s first laugh. This Buddha is a jolly man, and his words both chide and enlighten. There is no need for death-gods to argue over war, he says. Time will provide us all with an eternity of souls. I wonder with my waking-mind why he is there, but the thought vanishes in a period of time that could either be a moment or an eon.
Silence falls over this infant infinity as Anubis, that jackal-headed arbiter, raises his hand. Behind him, always waiting, always hungry, the Bone-Eater stirs, but she cannot act yet. Anubis places the universe’s soul on his scales, and nods once at the balance of it. This newborn space is pure of heart.
So, says the All-Father from his place on high. Time begins now. Harvest ye the souls of your people. Maintain ye the balance. Odin has spoken.
My eyes now see the five gods floating above the galactic plane. The galaxy spins on, uncaring.
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