What is the difference between a flute and myself?
..I wonder
Perhaps the bores of a flute are purposeful
Mine are not
Those are visible to the eye
Mine are not
Likewise those of a flute sing to the world
While mine cry to God
However do they feel the wind flow right through like I do?
The warm sensation of being embraced or even touched grows cold just as fast as it comes..
Sunlight passes through me no different than a window
I debate whether sunlight is still warm
The steam of a shower fills my nose but there is no scent of flowers
Like blood from a wound my strength leaves me
My eyes don’t see
My ears don’t hear
.. So how am I any different than a flute?
Than a piece of hollow wood with holes that the wind passes through..?
What are the differences , if any.