God said:
I am always in Silence, and, at the same time, an echo of Me is always speaking. What I say reverberates. My Silence is complete, yet a chord never finishes. I sing. I have said it before. I sing of thee. I sing to thee. Of the One of you, I sing, and the Universe sings with Me, and you sing with Me. There is one Song, and it is the Song of Myself sung in unending ways, even as there is no beginning or ending ways.
We could say there are no capital letters that say a sentence is beginning, and there are no punctuation marks that say there is an end note that issues from My Throat. I sing I sing I sing. I sing a Song of Sixpence, and I sing a song of you in a million ways in One Note that circles the Universe.
We always have been. We always are. We have never not been. There is no break in Our Presence. My singing is never interrupted. Hear Me sing as I sing of thee.
I communicate with Myself. I am the Singer. I am the Hearer. I hear Myself. I am the Questioner, and I am the Answerer. There is no one to compare Me to, yet you, yourself, seemed to split into many pieces and fill up the world with fragments of Me that can only be complete and unfragmented.
Broken hearts do not exist. My heart is never broken. My heart never wavers. You think your heart does break. Hearts do not break in even two pieces let alone fragments. There are no broken hearts even when you believe you are brokenhearted. You enter a stream of thought that isn’t true.