Oud, guitar, electronics

Sitting on the riverbank under a tree, your question floats from your mind like a thread of smoke rising from a candle flame. The moving water in front of you makes its way down the valley it has been carving out for eons. It has time. After a couple thousand years pass and the moss has grown over your legs and hands, you finally hear the faint whisper coming from the glistening liquid and you are ready.