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 *