Didjeridu

Didjeridu, balm for a shattered ego. Deep, deep downnnn at the source of it all. A vibration worthy of a throat singer, no, downnnn, wha, wha, among the oms that fall from the center of dreamtime found among the sparks of a dying camp fire and bull roarers in the wind, when you sing your own song and no one knows or cares how your spirit soars, just that it does, and you can see all around the world, but...but more than the world, you travel with the sparks to the stars found at the beginning of the universe and beyond to the time before time and before that,that, that! When all we were, were notes on someone's chart.