No Longer

I no longer hear the music
Though I still sing the songs
Of all the kinds of sighing pines;
It has been too long.

I no longer see the pictures
Though I still have the paints
Of mountains sleeping on their sides;
My memories grow faint.

I no longer smell the pinecone
That sits upon my shelf;
It has lost the scents of home,
And I have lost Myself.