The Flute Player

The Flute Player came to our town.
He walked down the street playing his flute.
He invited everyone to dance to his song.
Some of them walked away, other merely listened, but a few...
A few danced.
As they danced they changed.
With every crescendo and lilting note, the dancers merged with the tune.
Their clothes appeared radiant and their faces ecstatic.
This continued on until the sun went away and the others went home.
But still the flute player and the dancers continued.
Till they became fire.
Why? Oh why did I not dance?


  1. This is a beautiful poem. It reminds me of the MANY times that I did not "dance" for one reason or another. I think those days are coming to an end and I may be dancing a lot more often!
    Thank you for your support, brother!
    Love you!
    Guru's Daughter

  2. I am thankful for you, sister. We are both experiencing the garden of the Beloved. Dance on!


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