But, if just one such perusing angel can, merely from the feel of your right palm’s heat, from the characteristic moundness, roundness, mole, depth or breadth, raggedness, rosiness, heft or tinyness, from any twist or suppleness of your mortal generative area—if just one angel (are they ready to come in? fine, hold them just a wing beat more, please) … should just one know your touch, should one among the millions of formerly dead about to file past you (quite a spectacle of breeze and beauty, the promised show), should one suddenly point down, should just one, with glee, call but a single of your names, say, “Verne!” … then you, my dearest new angel, will soon be known as an Angel Imperial-First-Class forever. You will automatically advance to the right hand of God the Mother Father Almighty.

Am I making any sense here? They about ready? Excellent.

At surge, they now come drifting. Here it all starts, my dears. Above you, note four million fetal planets become visible at once. Fish farm for the firmament. “Ann,” you say, your heads back, loveliest of sounds.

Heaven’s colors, this emotive and inventive, are renewed. Most hues will still lack names for you. Colors here are granted the volition and mischief accorded human souls. They play above—in cloud formation—their own form of tag, hopscotch, and chess.

That dramatic wine-dark hue over there is Magna. This one above us is mainly Timbre. And the other, lightest, farthest, God calls Imbue.

To shield you, dear beginners, uncoiling in your Genesis, we’ve tamped back the Euphoria at first. We don’t want its jagged playful force to scare you.

Good, there … you’ll feel the Dynamos of Ecstasy come purring on, in lights. Settle over the sensation. It’s not unsexual, is it? Hmnnmm. —Yes, laugh, do.

Your own well-being thrums forward, like some upper-end harp string long ignored, newly plucked, and oh so glad to be found by Music’s uses.

–NOW, let The Great Celestial March and Fugue commence! Feel the scented airs increase? Note how colors this intense press their nap against your palms and crotch? The washes of green light (green especially) soothe those itchy upper wings. See the range of blues go pink go oh so yellow. Magna to Timbre clear off to Imbue! Feel light burning cool across your new-old body. Recognitions will soon occur.

First thing, check out your own variouses. Having done that, freely browse among each other’s, some of you will know the others despite years. Go hand to hand. A strong impression was made by you once chanting, “I’ll let you see mine, if you’ll let me …” You did see, didn’t you? Seeing others’ is God’s will.