Surely, the over-tone series must resonate throughout the cosmos. The immediate atmosphere, our common “air” seems permeated with the strains of singing if not song, bird call if not melody, vibrant pulse if not organized rhythm, roar if not choir, the whoop of laughter the sigh of release or relief, the dance of anticipation and all before we’ve sung, struck, played or blown a single note. There must be a God somewhere.
There is music over my head. There is music in the air. There are clouds, sun, and moon over my head. There are stars over my head. There is wind in the air and life in the oxygen in the air and breath in the leaf from the oxygen in the air and breath for the song that we sing from the oxygen in the leaf from the air. There must be a God somewhere. But, I suspect we are looking in the wrong direction.