Does the reader happen to know what it means to be in the midst of a space constructed by sounds? The sounds not as in forged and synthesized but sounds as in pure and organic. Sounds as in those which create the songs of evolution of life, preserved in the ancient virginity of places where you and I don’t usually go. I speak of the most organic art of all, preceding all art that we’ve forged till the day. I speak of truth and wisdom in the wilderness. I speak also of the organic silence which isn’t absolute as the concept would mean but pure as it actually exists. Venture my friend into this organic soundscape and breathe in the poetry of your coming into being and the lullaby that was meant to lull you into sleep. In this wilderness you shall discover your wild essential self. In this wilderness you shall know freedom.

The soft gurgling cadence of flowing water, trilling songs of a zillion birds around… cheep cheep cheep chirrrup chachachachacha chuk chuk chuk piyooo piyooo… the sweet whisper of breeze in the leaves, insects!!… suddenly a bird ventures too near chirps, and flutters away in panic… Did it perhaps leave a beautiful feather behind?… The stream must fall somewhere nearby… it has to be a waterfall that I hear… Isn’t that the whistle of a thrush?!… And what song bird could that be?!!…

Then the individual noises loose meaning as the symphony of the wilderness emerges as a single dimension… holding me, embracing me as it’s own! It is then that I know freedom and an inexpressible timeless truth…