A flute, after the song is done
Still holds the silver echo in its shaft
The soft sweet stirrings of vibrations
In all the places where it crooned and laughed
It’s said that flutes, with age,
grow richer —
the frequencies of former songs
all etched along their smooth interiors
which, with each touch,
arise more keenly, newly strong
Love is the same — it plays you like a flute:
Each song in which you let yourself be played
will make your singing richer, deep
The joy with which you then reverberate
will be a quality you’ll always keep
that sings you ever closer to your truth.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2012
Phew, yea, that's good, goodness knows.
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