Tuesday October 27, 2009....A Poem

Earth Song
of the Native American Flute


You whisper to the wood
and my heart hears the song.
It is the wind coming down the mountain.
It is the clouds flying across the sky.

The song is the breath of sunset
and the ripple of the mountain stream.
It is the Aspen leaves fluttering in the breeze
and the prairie grass bending in the wind.

I listen to the whisper of the wood
and it sings to my heart
of another place and another time
when the spirits of the land were at peace.

It is a song I yearn to hear
and a song not heard enough.
It is a song of nature before man
when the earth had its own song.

You whisper to the wood
and we hear the earth song.
It sings to our hearts
and brings us peace.



Robert H Pflanz