Sounds of the Flute   


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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copyright © February 20, 2000, by louve14
last revised 14 december 2002
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