When the dry wind
Brings a song to the flute...
When the hymns rise
From the dead wood
It is holy!

When a lost bee
Captures honey
From a rose
In the valley,
It is holy!

When the sadness
Is sweeter
Than the laughter
When a smile
A peaceful face
Ignites your soul
Like a furnace
It is holy!

To leave behind
Pastures and swine
To live only
With bread and wine
To be divine
To be free
It is holy!
* Copyright 1989 By Shant Norashkharian *