Sounds
of the flute
dance
in the air
calling
to all
to make
this journey.
And
then come the dreams,
dreams
of what once was
like
winds passing over time
forever
floating,
forever
hurting,
forever
there,
hot
like the sands
of the
desert,
this
is what it is.
Through
this experience,
there
is nothing but time,
time
to think,
time
to heal,
time
to forget.
Still
the sounds of the flute,
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
Songs
dance on the air,
fill
the memories,
create
the mood,
bring
introspection.
One
can become lost
in these
sounds,
allowing
the melodies
to shape
the present,
bringing
a mellowing,
bringing
a sadness,
bringing
thoughts
for
contemplation.
Raising
the eyes
to the
sky,
wondering,
thoughts
floating
on the
winds,
but
running in all
four
directions,
Still
the sounds of the flute
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
Sounds
of the flute,
mournful
in its tones
but
soothing, calming,
taking
one back
to a
time long ago.
a time
when all was calm,
yet
turbulent in the feelings
that
once filled this spirit,
all
old yet new,
all
bringing happiness,
all
consuming,
until
fear
raised
its ugly head.
And
then these feelings
turned
chilling,
turned
against this soul,
turned
all within.
Still
the sounds of the flute
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
The sounds
of the flute,
twilling,
calling,
floating,
bringing
the winds,
eery
in their sounds,
this
is the desert at night.
Yet
to seek
presence
of mind,
solace,
relief,
listen
to the sounds
floating
in the air.
the
chill night air
matching
the feelings of cold within.
And
the mind plays tricks,
things
seemingly there but not,
only
the emptiness.
Still
the sounds of the flute
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
And the
sounds of the flute
continue
in their melodies,
while
the stars shine brightly,
and
the voices of the Spirits
call
out to those there,
on a
quest for peace,
on a
quest for renewal,
on a
quest for calm
once
again to be restored.
They
are carried on the winds
and
appear as echoes,
filling
the night air,
filling
it with the surreal,
filling
all those who are there.
Taking
time to listen,
that
is the key,
then
the healing can begin.
Still
the sounds of the flute
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
The sounds
of the flute,
the
soft notes filling the air
as the
sun rises in the east
and
a new day is here,
one
to face renewed hope,
to follow
the path
made
the day before
as the
melodies follow,
always
to be there
in the
mind,
in the
heart,
in the
soul,
surrounding
the hurt,
buffering
it.
The
beauty of the sunrise,
all
its colors,
all
its brightness,
fill
the sky.
Still
the sounds of the flute,
the
sad, hollow sounds,
fill
the air,
fill
the mind,
fill
the soul.
the
wolf is my messenger
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