Magical Flute.

Eyes we need not to play an instrument
We just need to feel
But we need to have a soul that'ts full
When we pick that flute trying to make a sound
Such a glorious sound
Our fingers as we play each and every note
As the blind man from his memory he plays
It's engraved in his soul each memorable not
I love the silence of the night
It's so easy to think
It's the best time to write when everyone's asleep
Like that flute player forever in the dark.
In his mind, he can see each note
Wonderful just to sit and listen to his music...
Such pure, pure sweet sounds exuding from that flute
As if a band of angels keeping him in tune....
I calmly go on my way, feeling angry frustrated...
Far from peaceful...
As I wash my hands from the ignorance of those peoples...
I cross the highways and byways
As the slant of the crescent moon...
Lit the door of that cafe that was still closed...
There are no guitars strings tonight nothing of that ilk...
But a blind man playing his flute,
Who plays in the wind...
The flowers and my tears flowing silently,
Too many words spoken,...
Such a cacophony of sound...
Let there please be silence so I can just listen...
To the tunes way back, way back from home...
The tune of love, love lost & the shelter of him...
Still can hear the blind man
Playing his magic flute in the wind...                          

                                      By Connie James...