It dreamt of a vast sky of flowing light, lush and green, speckled with bright and shining stars.  It dreamt of the great tools that built the work of art it called the cosmos.  It dreamt of hidden foundations, indescribable worlds, of wars above, and the festering things who yawned and hungered in spaces between the light.  It dreamt of pain and sacrifice, duty and altruism, heroism and death; all of this and more, a joyful and grim wheel forever turning in the vision of its slumber.