The Flute Player

This is a poem I wrote a long time ago......

There was a flute player who sat on his rock and played the music of the town. He played morning and night. He played the tune of the forest and the melody of the river. He embraced the wind as if he were born to it. He is the earth. He is every soul rolled into one. He does not speak but to the trees. They whisper to him the secrets of the town. So he plays their pain, sorrow, happiness, and love. If you take a deep breath and close your eyes you can hear the flute as it rides on the wind.