I met a flutist once beneath the pines, A quiet man whose notes were clear as sky. One phrase was all it took …
I met a flutist once beneath the pines,
A quiet man whose notes were clear as sky.
One phrase was all it took to still the clouds,
And send my roaming heart drifting by.
Through shifting dreams I chased that melody,
With flute in hand to find what used to be.
The song now fades as waking winds start,
Leaving behind my pure and truest heart.