Sunday Morning Om

Om is not a chant. Om is the vibration of absolute silence, rising and falling in waves of itself.
You cannot chant Om, but you can hear it. Just be quiet and listen. Om is the womb of paradox, the resonance of the void, the fullest harmony of emptiness, giving birth to the earth, the galaxies, the space beyond the rim of time.

When you are listening, your mind is not making the noise of thought. Then you can hear the thunder of quarks and neutrinos, the chorus of a trillion suns in a single proton.

Is it a proton in your body, or in the body of a fiery rainbow she-dragon on a distant star? Both. Now enough talk. It is dawn. Time to dissolve...

Hear the annihilation of subject and object. Drown in the ocean of quietness, where there is no more listener, only Listening. Let this Listening give birth to a sparrow's song.

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