Yet, the universe was not content with silence.
And if you listen very, very carefully, you can still hear it. A low, eternal, compassionate hum beneath the noise of the world. The song that holds all of creation together, note by note, breath by breath. lord shiva songs
That night, as Manu slept, he dreamed of a blue-throated figure sitting by a river of milk. The figure held a lute. "Sing for me," said the Lord. Yet, the universe was not content with silence
She went to Shiva and with a gentle touch on his ash-smeared arm, she spoke. "Nath (Lord), the world awaits your sound. Not the roar of your tandava, but the music of your heart." The song that holds all of creation together,
In the highest of heavens, beyond the grasp of even the gods, there was a silence so profound it was said to be the womb of all creation. Within this silence sat Lord Shiva, the Adiyogi, his eyes closed in a trance that had lasted for eons. His only ornament was the crescent moon, his only companion the silent, coiled energy of Kundalini.
Manu, embarrassed, mumbled, "I cannot, Mahadev. I have no voice."
This was the first song. It was not a song of words. It was the sound of a single, perfect tear of compassion falling into the ocean of suffering. As Shiva sang, a strange thing happened.