RESURRECTION (At the River) -- Voice
SackJo22
The voice of RESURRECTION (At the River) — a guided meditation.
A version of the processed vocal is also available as an additional file.
RESURRECTION (At the River)
This is the dream.
You are going to the river.
To reach the river, you walk along a dirt path that runs through a meadow.
The meadow is resplendent.
The sun is shining.
The slightest of breezes kisses your cheek as you walk.
Birds are everywhere.
The path curves. You are not sure what you will see as you continue.
You cross a bridge.
You are at the river.
At the river, you breathe in the smell of the water. You hold it in until you can hold it in no longer…then, release.
You feel your feet on the ground.
You touch the river, the bring your finger to your lips as if to kiss the promise of the flow.
You watch the sunlight on the surface of the water, both opaque and clear.
You watch the water flow.
You return.
You cross a bridge.
The path curves.
You walk through the meadow that is resplendent.
In the meadow, there is both life and death.
A harbinger of resurrection scurries across the path.
A beetle, black as ink.
There are hummingbirds and carpenter bees.
There is the gentle kiss of barest breeze.
It will comfort you upon awakening.
A version of the processed vocal is also available as an additional file.
RESURRECTION (At the River)
This is the dream.
You are going to the river.
To reach the river, you walk along a dirt path that runs through a meadow.
The meadow is resplendent.
The sun is shining.
The slightest of breezes kisses your cheek as you walk.
Birds are everywhere.
The path curves. You are not sure what you will see as you continue.
You cross a bridge.
You are at the river.
At the river, you breathe in the smell of the water. You hold it in until you can hold it in no longer…then, release.
You feel your feet on the ground.
You touch the river, the bring your finger to your lips as if to kiss the promise of the flow.
You watch the sunlight on the surface of the water, both opaque and clear.
You watch the water flow.
You return.
You cross a bridge.
The path curves.
You walk through the meadow that is resplendent.
In the meadow, there is both life and death.
A harbinger of resurrection scurries across the path.
A beetle, black as ink.
There are hummingbirds and carpenter bees.
There is the gentle kiss of barest breeze.
It will comfort you upon awakening.