Inhale, exhale, my dress is black, I have sewn pockets in to it, a container of care, I follow the veiled being, she has a soft string, I let it rest in my hand, up the stairs, four people on a string, walking slowly, I go through the portal of re-enchantment, received by the Archivist, no words, but a kind look from behind the veil, golden fingerprints, a notebook, I leave the device in a box, I leave time, air, life, infinity, one two, three, numbers are left outside too, are they numbing us in numbers, what a relief to see them go, air life infinity, now a circle, no names, no explanations, no logos, we are waiting, more beings arriving, their hands are gently washed, ecchoes an ancient ritual. As I close my eyes, the element of water greets me, the rhytm of the waves, I feel at home, the veil is thinner in this soft nest, inhale, exhale.

Then I lay down, listening to the guided exercise, this is simran, remembering the poetic self, I soar through darkness sitting in an egg, I have wings, I can fly out and come back any time, the egg is my base, a whale dives deep in to the midnight of the sea, coming up white, quantum being, whaley, wingey, eggseeding my being, now my wings are seeds, I can share them and new ones will grow, the more I share, the more will grow, seeds of light, seeds of love, seeds of sound, seeds of union, I go to the light in my eggseed, they are there, my lumious family, they greet me, you are not alone, I am not alone. Then a seed of light rising from the third eye, balancing, stay there, listen, then the seed will grow, and you can water the seeds of others, we trust you, trust your light, trust the seed of song, how I love this song, I live this song, if I listen, everything is the same song, listening, listening, leaning in to this space of care, my gaze is lace, have I always lived here, I have always lived here, my gaze is lace, I prepare tea from herbs, I choose herbs for myself, slowly, sensing the grains under my fingers, a circle of cups, then I choose herbs for another being in this egg, strangers and not strangers at the same time, we have left our names, white curtains flowly slowly in the open window, light and shadows, the soundscape dissolves time, it is dreamtime, we float in this egg, this space of soft, listening, listening, leaning in to union, becoming one strange creature, with many arms and legs, and eyes, we close them, open hearts sensing what needs supporting, a hand on the back, we will not fall, we are the manylegged being, one cell, resting, trusting, mirroring microcosmos and mirroring galaxies with our one breath.

I am sharing soundmeditation, this trust, inviting others in to the sessions, we are calling, listening, the mighty mother, we all carry the seed of sound in our breath everyday, like an ordinary miracle, maaaaa, rest and undertones, laying down as eggs, they are cosmic seeds, what will grow, I see their flowers of light, gratefull.

A bunkbed, my small white nest, one bed in the bedbunkbuilding, dreamtimecastle, we could all hold hands, that close, but we rest, writing, drawing, remembering, we return here all through the day, I am in dreamtime, but the belly remembers food, we follow the Octopus with the loose black string, like children, this immense trust, we eat in silence, but through the window sounds of children playing, their joy and laughter, this most beautiful of sounds, we follow the Octopus again, she forms a spiral of beings, slowly, slowly, and removes the string, we keep the form and move as one, guided, this radical gentleness weaving us through the cycles, walking under the fullmoon, guided by the veiled beings, curiousity, openness, all these meetings of the heart, this nest, this rest, this nest, this rest, the veil is thinner in here, go to the core of the seed, listen, it will blossom, the Archivist, a poetic name has grown, I sign the papers with this, listen, listen, thousand and one seeds, letting go of the string, my heart is soft, silence and joy and sighs in all chambers, the trust, the love, the beauty, simran, carrying everything is the same song, air, infinity, life, gently exiting, existing, letting go of the string, letting seeds spill from the pockets in my dress, where I walk, luminous seeds from this transcendant fairytale, so I can find my way, our way, eggseeding, the white light from the black whole