This little flautist has been with me for the last 10 years.
The simplicity of his form gives me a sense of calm when I need it.
I have tried to figure that out many times.
How can the clean, straight, uncomplicated form of an inanimate object make me feel a sense of calm and peace right in the center of my blood pumping heart?
How come he instills in me a hope of a better tomorrow?
How come he makes me want to reach deep inside me and draw out my confident spirit?
The inanimate flautist does not speak.
He does not feel.
He does not breathe.
He does not live.
Yet, I get from him, what I sometimes don't get from fellow humans.
How is that possible?
Could it be that the flautist carries within his core the beautiful energy of his creator, the sculptor?
No comments:
Post a Comment