This is a book on epiphanies. It has as much to do with ethics as it has to do with metaphysics, and as much to do with both of those as it has to do with having strange waking dreams. It is the painful ascent out of Plato's cave, where surprisingly the sun is not all that bright, but rather a vacuum in which no light exists at all. This is not to say there is an absence of goodness, such as in the Biblical sense of God being himself "light" and one in whom "there is no darkness at all." Rather, absence here is to be contemplated as presence, and eternity as a moment, existing within the already-not yet. In this book you will find humor, you will find agony, you will find bliss, and you will find questioning. Lament is here an act of praise, and here I wish to say all I can regarding the darkest places of my heart, and the darkest depths of the abyss which are to the one I love most, nothing more than pure light, for He is Light, and He is Love. And I have given up on writing what sounds like a sales pitch. After all, this is a matter of heart and soul; not a political campaign.