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Sunday, October 7, 2018

the sound of trees



the sound of trees,
i listen, flows,
from roots and leaves,

in and out and in
between earth and sky,
up and down, all through

autumn songs now,
very silent at night,
whispers delight in the sun.

cycles forming rings
and the tree grows 
stronger each year,

his voice is a river
and all the winds
stir only the leaves

rotting sweetly 
in his feet's embrace, 
nourishing the soil

out of which the soul
grows and unfolds
and follows the rhythm,

the tides of eternity,
the waves in which
all changes and dies.

no kiss is sweeter 
than the scent of grass,
no love greater than a tree,

no soul deeper,
so deeply reaching silence,
life and death and birth.

the tree rests mature
in itself and in all,
healing, calm and pure

he sings, he talks , 
not in words
but sound - inside.

his song is memory
of mystery, of origin,
stirring softly all desire

and now i know, again,
we have no other way but
to unfold what cannot be told

Flying Partridges, Lu Chunling





Lu Chunling, the renowned dizi (Chinese transverse bamboo flute) soloist and former professor of Shanghai Conservatory of Music, died in Shanghai on May 22 at the age of 97.


Kath Bloom, Come Here