From a series of poetic songs...
Wooden Flute, Sing
Wooden flute, sing,
sing the sunrise,
sing the cold orange light
flooding hillside,
oak grove,
suburban home,
garden path,
elm grove
and freeway,
sing the fire
on my face.
Wooden flute, sing,
sing the wind
that shakes
the manzanita,
sing the icy river
flashing over rocky bed,
sing the mountains
in the distance,
sing the waves
pounding the beach,
sing the storm clouds
piling high.
Wooden flute, sing,
sing the branch’s grain,
sing the striving green,
sing the memory
of cell
and sap
and leaf
and limb
in sunlight
on cedar or pine,
on redwood or oak
that gifted the music
to you
and to us.
Wooden flute, sing,
sing the player’s
lips and lungs,
sing her breath,
her blood,
her hands,
her journey,
sing her fingers
that dance your song
from the hollowed branch,
sing feet that romance
the breathing ground.
Wooden flute, sing,
sing the sunrise,
sing the moon phase,
and sky of stars.
Wooden flute,
sing heart,
sing eyes,
sing tears,
sing street,
sing singer’s voice.
Sing ocean
and storm.
sing river
of asphalt,
sing skyline
of city,
sing canyon
of antiquity,
sing rise and fall
of forest and stream,
sing world
in search of wisdom
sing world
in search of peace.
Wooden flute, sing.
Wooden flute, sing.
