O, my heart, if your beats could speak
What would they say, what music play?
Tight the chest and yet small drops leak
Let pain subside and patience flow
Through sunny smiles and dismal isles.
Tired, I walk, alone and slow,
These lonely miles.
No friend, no foe, no strife, no peace;
A clock, a path, a face, an urn.
Nor sigh nor prayer will appease.
Air, earth: both burn.
The flute can never curve like lips
But with silent bellows music makes
Among the dancing fingertips.
Care sleeps. Joy wakes.
Sweet silence in the stillness thrums.
My soul in it will ever be.
Awash with love, the moment comes.