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Somewhere within me, in the depths of my being, beneath the noise of ordinary life, silence dwells. A silence scented with mystical temples, argan oil, and incense smoke rising like a devoted prayer. A silence that is not empty, but marks the sacred presence of something greater than the small human self — something that lives within me and flows from my primordial home. Like an ancient, forgotten memory, barely perceptible beneath the layers of time, yearning to rise again.

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This silence is my oratory. A forgotten nest we have always searched for — a necessity, an inner calling.

Sometimes it appears to me like a flash between two thoughts, or between the beats of my heart. As if the entire universe had paused within me. Or at night, when the world quiets down and only the slow, peaceful breath remains after a long, unsettled day — when the body, finally too tired, stops distracting me.

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Sometimes, it finds me unexpectedly — in the gaze upon a tree, or the radiance of a white spring flower revealing the living divine presence in all things.

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Or in the slow sip of tea, as its aroma spreads through my mouth and bathes my tongue in exotic flavors, guiding me to distant lands where the sun rises — to forgotten memories of my other selves, who once walked along the Ganges.

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On a rock in Ault, during a lazy, sun-drenched July sunset above the golden-blue sea, where pink-orange rays leap and brush the water like fingers caressing the purple velvet robe of the initiate — ready to leave the Earth, when at last, past, present and future become ONE. 

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In the gentle, silent fall of a leaf onto a still lake, and in its ripples swirling in a dance of echoes… fading into infinity. In the summer wings of a butterfly, as it lands on a petal, contemplating the fleeting cycle of his life nearing its end, yet whose vibration continues to ripple through the universes.

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And then, suddenly, I remember. Just a flash of understanding, a captured frequency, an almost inaudible whisper — a wave that passed through me and left an unforgettable imprint within. A subtle presence that makes me feel alone no more. As if an invisible hand were holding me, wrapping me in the veil of shimmering stars.

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Excerpt from the book: 

 

 

by Zuzana Lemaire
© 2025 Zuzana Lemaire
All rights reserved.