I am a boat in irons
waiting for a kind wind
to sail me on, sure and steady,
ready to begin again.
A flute lies still
waiting for an unseen hand
and the promise of breath
to play a song like no other can.
An ember glows, pulsing
brightly on this darkest night--
warm me, raise my own flame,
call on me to dance again.
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Thursday, July 21, 2011
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