MOKSHA

'The Sound That Saves'

Once upon a time,

in a world where silence no longer existed,

the cities buzzed like burning hives,

the mountains wept in secret,

and even the forests had forgotten the wind.

Everything echoed, everything shouted, everything vibrated...

but no one truly listened.

It was told, in long-forgotten legends,

that one day, a sound would come — just one —

capable of quieting the noise.

A sound so pure, so perfectly attuned to the soul of the world,

that it would bring down the walls of fear,

the chains of memory,

and the loops of pain.

That sound was called Moksha.

But Moksha could not be sung.

It could not be written.

It had to be rediscovered,

through the seven bowls lost

in the realms of the inner world.

So the Wind searched.

It lifted ancient leaves,

explored hidden caves,

and found a bowl hanging in forgetfulness.

It breathed into it,

and the first note trembled into being.

Then the Sea searched.

She dove into her own depths,

into the heart of her spirals,

and discovered a mother-of-pearl bowl resting between two currents.

She cradled it gently,

and a second note was born.

The Mountain searched.

Still and unmoving, it waited for time to pass,

until a bowl emerged from the stone,

freed by patience.

It sang a deep, stable, eternal tone.

The Vajra, the inner thunderbolt,

searched without moving.

It did not explode — it pulsed.

It found a bowl in the silence between thoughts,

and struck it with a silent flash.

A crystalline note emerged.

The Moon searched.

She gazed upon the night,

soft and radiant in her stillness,

and shaped a bowl within her crescent.

She held it against her silver side,

and a peaceful note escaped.

The Consciousness searched.

Formless and voiceless,

it connected all the others.

It did not find a bowl.

But then,

without a sound,

the seventh bowl appeared —

not as an object,

but as a space.

A clear emptiness.

A true silence.

Present all along,

but made audible

through the harmony of the others.