My friends: Music is the language of spirits. Its melody is like the frolicsome breeze that makes the strings quiver with love. When the gentle fingers of Music knock at the door of our feelings, they awaken memories that have long lain hidden in the depths of the Past. The sad strains of Music bring us mournful recollections; and her quiet strains bring us joyful memories. The sound of strings makes us weep at the departure of a dear one, or makes us smile at the peace God has bestowed upon us.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels forever in flight.

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

What difference is there between us, save a restless dream that follows my soul but fears to come near you?

Let your best be for your friend.

Love is all I can possess and no one can deprive me of it. Kahlil Gibran (Visions of the Prophet)

Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.