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The Flute: by Jonel Abellanosa

forest in mist, image by Free_Photos, on Pixabay

The Flute

I search my instrument, stem

I long for, difficult to find in the forest,

elusive as birdsong. I thresh

deep, see my mind’s grove.

It holds breath like mist

in hollow internodal regions,

mouthpiece welcoming my art.

Stem that measures patience

I saw with care, prayer true

as the bamboo. Back home,

carving holes, splinters wounding

my fingers. It takes years

to master the elusive music.

I’ll push it gently, with love,

out to the upper region, air

changed into a pigeon.


Jonel Abellanosa lives in Cebu City, The Philippines. His poetry and fiction are forthcoming in The Cape Rock and Poetry Salzburg Review, and have appeared in hundreds of magazines and anthologies, including Spirit Fire Review, Chiron Review, Thin Air, The Lyric, The McNeese Review, and The Anglican Theological Review. His poetry collections include Songs from My Mind’s Tree, Multiverse (both from

Clare Songbirds Publishing House, New York),

50 Acrostic Poems (Cyberwit, India), In the Donald’s Time (Poetic Justice Books and Art, Florida), and Pan’s Saxophone (Weasel Press, Texas). He is a nature lover, with three companion dogs, and three other beloved dogs who have passed on beyond the rainbow bridge. He loves all animals.

August 2021 issue

45 views3 comments


It does take years to master the elusive music.


Aug 29, 2021

"It holds breath like mist..." Love that.


Janine Pickett
Janine Pickett
Aug 29, 2021

Oh, my heart...Amazing poem, Jonel!

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