LISTEN, MY heart, in his flute is the music of the smell of wild flowers, of the glistening leaves and gleaming water, of-shadows resonant with bees' wings.
The flute steals his smile from my friend's lips and spreads it over my life.
ACCEPT ME, my lord, accept me for this while. Let those orphaned days that passed without thee be forgotten. Only spread this little moment wide across thy lap, holding it under thy light. I have wandered in pursuit of voices that drew me yet led me nowhere. Now let me sit in peace and listen to thy words in the soul of my silence. Do not turn away thy face from my heart's dark secrets, but burn them till they are alight with thy fire.
SUDDENLY THE window of my heart flew open this morning, the window that looks out on your heart. I wondered to see that the name by which you know me is written in April leaves and flowers, and I sat silent. The curtain was blown away for a moment between my songs and yours. I found that your morning light was full of my own mute songs unsung; I thought that I would learn them at your feet-and I sat silent.