Lyrics

Close the eyes.
Let the edges soften.

There are places in you
the daylight never names.

First the body,
bone and hunger,
skin remembering every season.

Then the breath,
a hidden river,
moving without asking reason.

Then the mind,
making meaning,
painting doors on every wall.

I have lived inside these layers
like the surface was the all.

Annamaya.
Prāṇamaya.

One more veil,
one more door.

How many selves
can I move through
before I reach
what moves no more?

Five bodies deep,
where do I begin?
If I can watch the body,
am I only living in the skin?

Five bodies deep,
every layer letting go.
Mind becomes a window,
breath becomes the road.

And underneath the names I carry,
underneath the need to know,
something stays awake
while everything else goes.

Manomaya keeps the stories,
old impressions dressed as truth.

Vijñāna cuts through the echo,
asks what wisdom would undo.

Ānandamaya,
soft as distance,
not a pleasure I can hold,

more like silence without absence,
more like warmth without control.

No force.
No reaching.
No ladder to ascend.

Only deeper ways of listening
to what was here before the end.

Body.
Breath.
Mind.
Knowing.

Layer after layer falls.
Not because they were illusions —
because none of them
were all.

Five bodies deep,
where do I begin?
If I can watch the body,
am I only living in the skin?

Five bodies deep,
every layer letting go.
Mind becomes a window,
breath becomes the road.

And underneath the names I carry,
underneath the need to know,
something stays awake
while everything else goes.

Jagrat —
I wake and call this real.

Swapna —
I dream and still I feel.

Prajñā —
darkness without story.

Turiya —
the witness
without form.

Who moves through waking?
Who remembers dreams?

Who disappears in deepest sleep
and still returns as me?

Sankalpa…
plant it softly.

Not a command.
Not a plea.

A seed placed where the mind is quiet
enough to stop resisting me.

No analysis.
No forcing.

Let the image rise and pass.
Let awareness turn like moonlight
over every inner glass.

Five bodies deep,
I am not less.

I am wider than the borders
I once needed to possess.

Five bodies deep,
nothing lost and nothing gone.

Body, breath and mind still with me —
just no longer all I am.

And underneath the waking,
underneath the dream,
something stays aware
of every world I seem to be.

Five bodies deep.
Five bodies deep.

Still here.
Still seeing.
Still beneath.

Annamaya.
Prāṇamaya.
Manomaya.
Vijñānamaya.
Ānandamaya.

Layer by layer.
Not leaving myself.
Meeting more of me.