The Well of Souls

by Nathan Glick

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released June 3, 2013

Cover photo by Petr Kratochvil



all rights reserved


Nathan Glick Palampur, India

Nathan Glick was born in the US in 1960.

Nathan is a psychotherapist, spiritual mentor and a student of ancient mystical texts. He is a self taught guitarist who began playing in his teens and now uses wave editing programs to create sound constructions for expanding one's horizons. He currently may be encountered in various locations, East and West. ... more

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Track Name: 1a The Doors of Sleep
The doors of wakefulness swing shut
As the doors of sleep open wide.
Silently the softness falls, thoughts descend like
Snowflakes in the breeze. Here the emptiness
Breeds dreams that rise like a spring,
Giving voice to the soundless
And expression to the stones and dust.
Track Name: 1b The Hollow
Empty is the space that lives
In thoughtless quietude.
Luminous is the darkness that
Shines with the secret presence.
Here are cracks that lead through
the barriers of substance,
The thickness of the real.
Into your hand I entrust my soul.
Track Name: 2a The Pitcher
The young girl casts her pitcher into the well,
Rudely and solidly made of baked red clay.
A knotty hemp rope runs through the handle.
Sinking under, the waters seek the empty place,
As if there was not already enough emptiness.
Water always seeks the spaces.
The pitcher is prepared to rise.
Track Name: 2b 24 Hours
In this place time is different.
There is no here and there.
There is no then and when.
Present is the heart that sings the now.
The heart that contains
And is contained.
24 is the pitcher that holds
The water of time. Strong are the hands
with that draw the pitcher high.
Track Name: 3a Awakening
Birds echo the original song.
From the depths to the heights
It is all the same. The bitter
Becomes sweet in the honeycomb.
Dust becomes life in the grape cluster.
That which is constrained becomes
Free in the light. Hear the call to
Awakening. It comes like the breath
and shakes the foundations of the world.
Track Name: 3b The Return
From where I am I look upon
Endless vistas and new worlds.
Play is the most serious work.
Laughter is the hardest medicine.
I accept the limits of the body.
I accept the pale truth of the senses.
Only in this prison do I have
the freedom to look upon your
sweet face, my love.