The Flute in Me

A hollow flute when plays inside my chest,

My heart sinks, but my soul wants to dance instead.

Lifted from peace to celebrate the sorrow;

Burning like fire, as it rises from its rest.

You will see it as light in my eyes,

But only if you look deep enough,

And only if you search at all

Will you find where it really hides.

The music never stops to play.

I close my eyes, listening to it night and day.

Whatever may interrupt I do not move.

The flute chains me up and burns me through.

Cuts me and wounds me with its waves.

My soul spins to the climax of the music it makes.

When it pauses, my heart stops and waits.

Ears pricked, I cannot rest till it drowns my hate.

The flute. Curls me up like I am safe.

Gives my soul that dancing grace.

Blesses my eyes with the gift of tears,

For peace is when I cry, not silently bear

The truth. The flute. Turning me to stone.

Not numb, my soul shuffles with pleasure.

Taking out the sorrow, only to be fed with more.

Won’t you retrieve me by what is inborn?

The flute. Was grown and nurtured so well,

Won’t it die in you and me. Can’t you tell?

I keep returning for we are one music torn apart.

It can’t stop. It will pause, but again will start.

The flute. Listen for it was always there,

For the music never stops to play.

Why can’t you see your soul slightly sway?

When death comes along, it will only dance away.

The music never stops to play.

I am blinded with what is love they say.

I hang on to every note, each wave I closely hear.

You and I will make that music together one day.