All of life on Earth can be viewed as a metaphor. Life is symbolic. Therein lies the tale.
Life in the world is like an overlay, perhaps like a bedspread but such a bedspread, the weave and colors and intricacy beyond belief and yet seen in diverse ways. This bedspread is made of the finest silk, embellished with diamonds and rubies and emeralds and other stones from the Earth including stones you may kick as you walk along. Among the threads appear straw and various greens and flowers from the Earth and all manners of things, pictures of sun and rain, hills and dales, images of trains and planes and light and dark and bright and muted and things never seen before and endless repetitions of what is seen much of the time, and, yet, the bedspread, as intricate and overwhelming as it may be, is only a coverlet. No matter what it is woven of and no matter how beautiful it is or how uproarious it may be, it is a coverlet that can also be lifted off.
In Our metaphor, under the coverlet lies a sleeping place that you lay your head on, and what dreams may come. And, beyond your wildest dreams lie greater riches. We can call this beyond the Source of All.
The coverlet is beautiful, yet there is greater than this. You have an idea of what is greater and beyond, and sometimes you have glimpses of the True Reality, and, always, by the very nature of life on Earth, you come back to the coverlet and prance upon it.
