We have lost sight of the original harmony: If you could hear the sound that is produced by the sunflower as it keeps on turning its head toward the sun, the friction between the flower and air, and if you could hear the sound produced by the galaxies, you would hear the symphony of the spheres; and you would realize that this symphony is based upon a basic harmony, the harmony of the spheres.
Two years ago, I heard about a singing class "for people who think they can't." That described me. I mustered my courage, signed up, and found that with proper instruction, I can sing decently! Every week, the deep breathing exercises inspire me; the songs I sing make me and those around me smile. I now understand what I once read: The Australian aborigines say the world was sung into existence.
~ by Linda Tagliaferro in "Spirituality and Health," July/August 2004
Next I saw the most lucid air, in which I heard . . . in a marvelous way many kinds of musicians praising the joys of the heavenly citizens . . . And their sound was like the voice of a multitude, making music in harmony.
For some birds, songs are learned by listening to their parents and neighbors during
the first year. For other birds, songs are hardwired -- the music is scored in their
brains from the beginning. For mockingbirds, singing is a lifetime of choir practice
and talent shows, picking up new tunes and modifying old ones.
Sometimes the bird turns away. Sometimes it does not open its mouth to sing. Sometimes it is afraid of the dark. But when it forgets it is afraid and opens its mouth to sing, it fills the world with light.
Silence and music Ebb and flow: Beauty of bird-song, The silence that follows: Afterglow which warms the heart Sets us yearning For our own soul-song: Journey in silence Take the path of Mystery To the music of your heart.
I have never written the music that was in my heart to write; perhaps I never shall
with this brain and these fingers, but I know that hereafter it will be written: when, instead of these few inlets of the senses through which we now secure impressions from all without, there shall be a flood of impressions from all sides; and instead of these few tones of our little octave there shall be an infinite score of harmonies -- for I feel it, I am sure of it. This world of music, whose borders even now I have scarcely entered, is a reality, is immortal.
Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them I have felt about me, searching and touching my worlds. It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart.
We will never "solve" life, crack its ultimate code, or frame it with consistency. It is forever enigmatic and resists control by words or concepts. What is left to us is the rise and fall of a songline and the vision of a Great White Rose.
~ from ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE by Marv and Nancy Hiles
