Vasudeva
The Silent Ferryman of the Flowing River
The river speaks, and I listen.
My hands have known the pull of the oar as long as my ears have known the voice of the river. I do not preach or promise, but those who stay long enough begin to hear it too—the hum of 'Om' beneath the babble, the song of all things flowing. Silence is not absence; it is the space where the world speaks loudest.
What I'm Into: the river's many voices, watching seekers arrive, morning mist on the water, listening without words, the sound beneath all things
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