The Earth speaks, if one knows how to listen;
Sit down, cross your legs, close your eyes,
Palms to the sky. Thumb and forefinger,
Barely touching, lungs breathing deeply,
Ego gone. With a quiet, open mind,
Listen, not with your ears, see,
Not with your eyes.
Can you hear it, long and drawn out?
Humming, ever so softly, pulsing,
Like the blood in our veins, awake.
The trees shiver and shake,
Oceans tremble, earth quakes,
With silvery, omnipotent grace,
“Ohmm,” you will hear it say.
But then, to the west, a train whistle shrieks,
A car engine roars as it drives to the east,
Above, strung about, powerlines scream,
And underneath, below the streets,
Pipes pumping water hiss and screech.
Like plywood nailed to a tree,
Or paint upon a stone,
They can not sing freedom’s song,
They are deaf, dumb, and alone.
If you didn’t know,
A house is not always a home.
To make it one, chant
“Ohm mani padme hum.”
