Wooden Flute

 (Another in the song mode…)

Wooden Flute

Wooden flute

sing the sunrise,

sing the cold

orange light

flooding hillside,

oak grove,

suburban home,

garden path,

and freeway,

sing the fire 

on my face.

Wooden flute

sing the wind 

that shakes 

the manzanita,

sing the icy river

flashing over rocks,

sing the mountainous 

storm clouds

breaking apart

and sailing away.

Wooden flute,

sing the branch’s grain,

sing the memory 

of cell

and sap

and leaf 

in sunlight

on cedar or pine

that gifted you

to the music

and to us.

Wooden flute,

sing the player’s 

lips and lungs, 

sing her breath,

her blood,

her journey,

sing her fingers

that dance song

from hollowed branch,

sing feet that romance

the breathing ground.

Wooden flute

sing the sunrise,

sing heart

sing street,

sing river 

of asphalt,

sing canyon 

of antiquity,

sing world

in search of wisdom.

Wooden flute.

Sing.