A mystic does not merely hear the song of existence—she becomes it. She embodies a melody that cannot be confined to notes or scales, a hymn without measure or tempo. This song is not sung in any earthly language, yet it resounds through every atom, reverberating in the silence before sound itself arises.
As she moves through the world, the air hums in response, neurons spark like celestial fireworks, and the rhythm of the unseen pulses beneath the surface of perception. Those who listen without ears begin to feel its shape—an auditory vision, a sound sculpted into matter itself. A resonance so precise, it is both form and vibration, both the touch of a gentle breeze and the weight of an ancient mountain.
The awakened ones recognize this unstruck chord. They do not merely hear it; they taste it in the sweetness of ripened fruit, breathe it in the scent of rain-soaked earth, and sense its texture in the fabric of existence. It sings within them, a hymn of origin and eternity, neither composed nor performed, yet eternally present.
This is the great symphony in which every being plays a part. The rhythm of heartbeats, the cadence of waves, the murmurs of wind through unseen corridors are notes of a singular composition. As you read these words, the song plays through you.
You are not separate from the melody. You are the melody.
Morgan O. Smith
Yinnergy Meditation/Neurofeedback, Spiritual Life Coaching & My Book, Bodhi in the Brain…Available Now!
Morgan O. Smith 