Everything starts with a dot. A dense and powerful dot. A dot that holds within itself all the living force of creation. The tip of the quill kisses the white sheet. Leaves its drop of ink. A dot. The furtive instant of the first contact. Like an egg wrapped in a celestial plumage. A sleeping seed in the ground. A man's heart in the darkness of a cave. A secret garden behind its wall. A dot. Before blooming. An existence in the making. At this very moment, everything is still possible for the dot still belongs to the kingdom of Silence.

 

That first kiss is the initial momentum with which the quill signifies its wish to enter the world of expression. So it begins. Extracting itself from its cocoon. A small line first. It might be a straight line. Or perhaps a curve. Something simple. Almost shy. As a dawning life usually is. But soon it gains confidence. Expresses a stronger statement. Draws a sharp angle. A rebellious act. A capital letter overthrows the kingdom. Silence is no longer. Then what happens? Well, the quill lifts its tip off the white sheet. There, the first separation has just occurred. From this moment, nothing can stop it from unrolling its own reality. Slowly at first. And then faster. And faster. A letter becomes a word. A word becomes a sentence. A sentence, a paragraph. A paragraph, a chapter. Then a book, a library, a civilization… Breathe! What could be next? Yet, it all started with a dot. One single dot.

 

It is a long journey. The journey back to that dot. So many words have been written since then that the quill has lost its way back. As the spiral grows, the quill goes further away from that first kiss. Still, its muffled sound can vaguely be heard in the distance. It can still be perceived. The spiral continues its expansion. And the dot soon disappears. But still, it is known. It is there. Somewhere. Its presence is acknowledged. Even though no soul can claim to have seen it. It remains. An invisible evidence. Could it be what we call faith? As the spiral pursues its path, that evidence starts fading. Fading until no one can even remember it. It no longer exists. The distance is too great. The veil too thick. It is a long journey. An ever ending one. The journey back to the initial dot. Could it still be reachable? Such a long journey. The journey back to Silence