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 *