In song

 In song


In song I hear the singers voice

In verse I hear my own

Or better, none at all


Your inner voice and inner heart 

Will best declaim the lines

No longer mine but yours 


And silence, sweet silence

Best describes the wordless joy

That good poems bring. 


Words like incense on the altar

Smell divine when burnt inside

The thurible of love. 


Nothing more to say now

Nothing more to add

The Spirit has moved up and on. 

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