The meditative hum fills the air.
Drumming and drowning out
all that passes as sound.
It reverberates through the bones.
Essence of times before echo through the shrill
hum. Memorizing us. Pulling up old times.
Spirits of days gone by. The camp of long before
hovers on the ground. Floating by the sound
of the locusts hum. Standing inside the noise
open to the choice. Worlds move. Align.
All will be fine.