There is a continuous harmony in an echo; a gathering emerges through the whistles of the unknown. These hums run parallel to the modern world that I inhabit. My intellectual ability is a suffering of being alive. Yet I give this intellect permission to control me. When I close my eyes, I breathe and listen to this gathering. There is a testimony of another world.
For a brief moment, I am transported to a realm of these birds, whom I don’t belong to, but my heart, body, mind and soul start healing for a minute. There is silent care in the act of listening to their melodies.
Each soundbite manifests various human emotions but also sentiments that remain unfamiliar. This submersion, inaccuracy and yearning are what humans experience from time to time. This requires letting go. A profound cultivation occurs within me.