I sit for a long time in the absolute silence.All at once, there is barely a perceptible noise, a soft rumble as of thunder.The sound dies without discovery of its nature or source.It returns, seeming to come from all directions at once.At last it emerges from its mystery, grows into a tremulous hum, and solidifies into chanting.The music has no tempo.There is no breathing audible in it.No one voice stands out; it is the fusion of all that produces the effect.Long held notes which at last modulate again and again in the calm rhythm of the heart.I am suspended in the sound.And charged. ... The chanting dies away as gently as it began.Once again there is the unanimous voice of silence.
In the pouring forth of wisdom
all things have their being;
wisdom in my shining,
wisdom beyond me shining.
All things are branches
of the Tree of wisdom
wisdom in me growing,
wisdom beyond me growing.
In the circle of being
all things share a blessing;
wisdom in me turning,
wisdom beyond me turning.