The central premise of Quatrian myth seems to be that the nature of existence is music. That is, there are fundamental tonal components within the hyper-patterns of cosmic reality which shimmer and shift and ever recompose themselves into never-ending rhythms, melodies, harmonies, and discordant crescendos.
It seems to be the same secret of the psychonaut, temporarily attuned to nearby frequencies appearing as perceptible shapes in the darkness, spinning and weaving themselves together out of preality into almost-tangible moments, under the direction of some kind of will, whose locus is both mine and other, inward and outward. Pareidolia and paranormal. Event ladders unfolding in song across the eons, like the endless opening of bird’s wings taking to flight.
So it seems too to be the same secret scintillating behind what some call synchronicities: for there is no coincidence in music when the players are tuned and aligned, rhythms hitting on the same beats subconsciously. The same underlying notes and extremely deep powers heard together on another far more fundamental frequency. The Great River. Inward listening. The lost direction. The hypogeum and its inhabitants. Who hears, rejoice, the kingdom is yours.