I honor the light in you. I honor the light in myself.

A song of sun, released,

Twinkling off snow–

When we die, will we cease

To sing, or will there be a place

Where there is only music?

I lift the flute to my lips

And think of the fallen man, once,

Who played his songs, broken.

I thought them lovelier

Than he’d sung before, chords

Played for a small audience

Of those willing to listen.

Sing me a song of salvation,

And I will breathe you back

A tune only angels can hear.

Namaste, namaste,

Let the fallen angels find their way

Back to light, in broken songs.