My Flute
I pick up my instrument, a humble human being
I place the gleaming silver on my lips, a disciple of wonder
I play, a goddess
I dance as I weep and sing
I move with the lightest of feet
I sing with the purest silver beams of sound
I weep with the saddest tears which herald my immortality
In my playing, I create my own world, my own reality, my own everything
I become my everything
I need the love of no man
For I have my own love
And I shall bear my own child
I need no headstone for my grave
For I shall live forever
I need no vitals
For the music and dance I create is my own vitality
The silver leaves my lips
And I fall
My fall from grace never stops
I cling to any being who will give me thought
I spend my lifetime worrying for my headstone
Will it be grand enough to show what I made?
Will it be plain enough to show who I was?
In this world that someone else created
I suffer, I'm starving, dieing
In my world that I formed
I thrive, I'm immortal, eternal
My sounds carry me beyond the groping hands on gravity
Beyond the numbing of the stars
And into my own, into me
Carrying me as I twirl and sway on my feet
Into the deepest sea of me
My muscles supple ease me through the motions
The motions that are mine
Mine to keep secret mine to know
Mine to make me a goddess a being above all others
Mine to hold humbly to my heart and practice in my head
My silver, my weapon, my healer, my savior, my destruction
My flute