A Hollow Flute

When all your busy striving comes to rest,
You'll find that you can make a clearer sound.
It's through a hollow flute that breath flows best.

No need for endless search or desperate quest,
The things you've lost will once again be found
When all your busy striving comes to rest.

Anxiety lets go your throat and chest,
A lifetime's worth of knots to be unwound.
It's through a hollow flute that breath flows best.

Like tired birds returning to the nest,
You'll fold your wings and settle to the ground
When all your busy striving comes to rest.

And after all, surrender's for the best,
In silence, there's a voice that can't be drowned.
It's through a hollow flute that breath flows best.

Perhaps these things can't really be expressed,
The heart's a frail reed, to bear this sound.
When all its busy striving comes to rest,
It's a hollow flute that breath flows through the best.