Blind to the sounds around you, deaf to the colours of this symphony. Not seeing that you are all this, part of this and a single unit at the same time.
Flying high at times like an eagle, a piercing cry on your beak breaks the skies, dances at the top of this symphony, then falling down again, being the murmur of the waters in the ground, the bass in this symphony, the grumbling and rocking earth, slow, patient, ultra low in frequency.
Whatever your voice in this symphony is, it happens in time, and yet, it is so marvellous an experience that you come here again and again, feeling, hearing, seeing, tasting, smelling this symphony again and again.
Oh, this time I will play this tenor, being a hero, fanfare to the attack, and I will die a glorious death, rising like a star and falling like a meteorite.
At other times you prefer to play the bass, giving the drum beat to the other players, your beat like the applause which cheers them on.
Oh how marvellous to feel oneself as part of this symphony.
What a glorious all-encompassing experience this is.
There are people who want to escape this.
Makes me wonder why?
You must have lived trillions of lives to get bored of this. Or lived countless of lives being totally separated from your own reality.
But once you get a glimpse of who you are again, once the awakening happens, there is no stopping. You begin to dance and praise this creation again, in whatever way that suits you.
I don’t understand this bone dry souls, having separated themselves completely from this symphony, thinking they are in fact the god, the creator of all this. They are mistaken. Their reign can only exist in copying what already exists, in taking apart and putting together again. They deem their creations, beings, machines superior, and yet, compared to the original creators force, they are clumsy and ugly only.
You are a creator by nature as you are an expression of this creative force that permeates the universe.
You are an individual and yet at the same time embedded in that field.
Nothing to fear, as even death looses its grip knowing this.
Your joy is travelling far, and wherever it goes, it inspires.
You know, that all this is routed in silence.
Yet the music to lovely to be silent right now.