The Silent Flute
No tongue moves, no lips part,
yet the song plays on, unseen, unheard.
Not a note, not a whisper,
only the hum of existence, deep within.
No temple, no church, no shrine,
only the sacred breath of knowing.
No bow, no kneel, no clasped hands,
only the stillness that sings in silence.
What name can I give You,
when You are the one who names me?
What path shall I walk,
when every step is already home?
I am but the reed in Your endless wind,
hollow, weightless, surrendered.
You play, and I become the music,
a soundless song of the unseen Divine.
The Gentile!
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