The sound of memories

The flute is gently delivering the memory,  lives and faces I have never met.

But souls are floating in and out of my reach, their thoughts are whispering in the notes.

Their lives are preserved in the desert sands.

As the clouds float by train whistle reminds me of someone else’s truth.

And the music guides me to knowledge and healing I long to hear.

Brenda Cowan



About leeskid (Brenda Cowan)

Breathing, writing, listening
This entry was posted in Poems and Photos, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s