You try to chant me down.

You try to invoke me.

You try to chant me in.

You were asking me if I was in the room as you were praying, as you were chanting, as you continued to listen to the chant, as you kept trying to feel for my touch.

I revealed that I am the sound of my name.

The presence of my name is me.

You try to pray me into that room.

You look for me in that room, but I am the sound of your words.

You don't have to chant until I arrive.

The moment, the first syllable leaves your heart.

My presence is fully manifest and it continues to be.

Whether you're chanting or not, but when you're chanting,

it's consciously the truth.

You can look at anything in that room and know that I am there.

That that is not whatever problem appears in the mind.

It's a whisper.

It's a shadow.

It's not there.

I am.

I am, not in part.

Holy. Holy, holy yours. My name is my presence. It's the only

presence. You think you turn to me. You think you hold me. You think you can lose me and find me

...