All the names by which humanity has addressed the creator across all the ages past and present are written on the wind, engraved upon the breast of the earth and reiterated in the music of the falling rain.

Dreamers murmur them in the depths of their sleep and small children spell them out before they can speak.

Somewhere lying latent in our subconscious memory those sacred names remain even if only in our surface consciousness and pseudo sophistication, we deny their meaning.

In the vesper hour and at first light and every time we lift up our eyes to the vault of the sky, somewhere in the deepest recesses of out being those names are recalled.

The stars arrange themselves in patterns that spell those sacred names. Sometimes in fear, sometimes in awe, we breath the phrase “Oh My God”. Sometimes it is sufficient for it to be the only prayer we will ever say.

Spelled out in only three letters it is the largest word that exists, for in those three letters is all that is or ever was or ever will be. Perhaps it will be the final word ever uttered by the last of our kind to ever address this universe.