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Sensual Serenity: East Indian Meditation Flow 1 by Epic Dig1-Talé

SongGPT
Sensual Serenity: East Indian Meditation Flow 1 by Epic Dig1-Talé - Instrumental Meditation Music music cover art

Sensual Serenity: East Indian Meditation Flow 1

Instrumental Meditation Music

0:005:11
Lyrics
Description
The fingers trail the slow bends of your breathing,
Traces lost between skin and the dry flicker of candle smoke.
A gentle swirl courses beneath the temple, rounds low and deep, like a secret folding inside this isle.
Flannery weaves through shadows cast by dust, every notice a ripple on still water, Pulling tight the loose ends of the day.
Soft bowls ring in quiet pulses, each a stone skipping through darkened pools, The heartbeat folds into this calm tide, Steady beneath the rising warmth.
Beneath the pulse of 194, the world falls away, Hands speak a language without sound and touch holds the heavy silence down.
In this circle of slow fire, every breath a thread that pulls us higher — Here, the flicker holds us whole, the air itself a quiet soul.
A temporous drone spins slow, gold around a noon that breathes our stillness in.
Sitar strings stretch thin and long, threads unravel in entangled light, Our subtle waves of bells and bowls plate the space with a quiet reverence.
The banner of whispers drift at 194, a frequency folding fingers through hair, A pulse from ancient earth inviting skin and spirit to dissolve gently in its wash.
Beneath the pulse of 194, the world falls away, Hands speak a language without sound and touch holds the heavy silence down.
In this circle of slow fire, every breath a thread that pulls us higher — Here, the flicker holds us whole, the air itself a quiet soul.
Candles fold into shadows and shadows fold back like soft wings closing.
The scent of jasmine floats low, caught in the hum of an unseen mantra. Each stroke a pulse, a quiet night undone.
Another slow melt into silence where no words can follow.
Beneath the pulse of 194, the world falls away, Hands speak a language without sound and touch holds the heavy silence down.
In this circle of slow fire, every breath a thread that pulls us higher — Here, the flicker holds us whole.
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