Mysterious sounds abound in digital space Riding the tinkling, raspy, pillow-textured waves A spirit renowned is transmuted, transmitted Through meticulous mathematical engines

This majestic milieu of sound anatomy Is a pathway to an unmade reality This is the place of planting, fertility, birth Where grow seeds of the trees of life cracking the dirt

This is good ground for hopes and dreams and wishes too If you plant and nurture them, the may grow 'round you In the place of potential limits are your own Current quos cannot control what you choose to grow

I can't tell you what to seek, but here is a door May this unmade place provide enough to explore If you do not find it here, know there is much more You are the soul who knows what you are waiting for