I laugh when humans say—
meditation is quiet.
I implore my children,
to again try it.
Slow and steady is the breath;
in my bosom you lay.
Close your eyes now,
you can see better that way.
Listen closely for the first drumbeat;
coming from your chest—
a percussion of life-giving blood & oxygen.
Next comes the wind rustling mid-summer leaves,
like chimes played by fairies dancing in the breeze.
Do you hear the woodpecker?
Playing the congas in the trees; never for a minute off-beat.
The frogs have joined and are now a steady choir,
all chirping along to the deep note of E minor.
Here comes the buzzing of the bees—
humming notes about service in perfect harmony.
The rain falls like thudding gifts from the sky,
hitting the earth in perfect meter & perfect time.
Now comes the thunder,
lightening up the sky with a booming bass & wonder.
The waves roar loudly against the rocks in a voice so ancient & soulful—
calling the whales to rise from the depths,
to sing back-up vocals.
The wolves now join in from the cliff above the shore,
howling in unison about all their adventures:
a haunting encore.
My Children of the Earth,
My song is ubiquitous;
My old hymn is infinite & endless.
Just remember that you need to go in,
to find it.