When life speaks, its voice is music. Listen.
Brave vibrations fill the air, throb through the earth, stir the still and moving waters. The wings of a crane beat the atmosphere with rhythm. The cricket chirps. Salmon leaps with salmon to the roaring falls of music.
Forests never sleep. Oceans are never silent. Silence is a mere idea. But heart beats time. Limbs harmonize. Brains drum on the very cymbals of existence. There is a universal course which reveals itself in music. Music is order and purest creation. For music plays us things beyond us, within us, without us. Music plays us things as they are. Music plays us things as they will be
What follows is from my dear friend, Jade Lotus... I had to share her writing with you. It makes me see with different eyes, makes me want to be...better...:
Where's all the real people. People weathered and beaten down in every way but spirit, lines permanently etched in their faces from a lifetime of indignant laughter with all its robust purity. With the nod and the solemn wink 'how ya doin' ma'am' as they open a door or take off their hat or pull out a chair and they're honestly sincere as they gaze past the surface of your eyes and into the beautiful murky depths of your soul. Where can I find the true souls of the earth that you only r
Why are we here? A friend has me thinking...
I'll never be one of those who thinks that we are an accident of soulless evolution, and so are devoid of any Higher purpose other than the one we give ourselves. The Universe is too well integrated and too finely balanced for me to believe that. The very fact that I can sit here pondering this question suggests (to me) that I was built for this...
... and I think that we all have bred into us the pattern of our origins, dim and distant (like looking through a glass, darkly...) and in our mind's eye, and in our hearts, we have a dim perception of the Home we came from, and to which we all wish to