The silence was the answer.
No whisper, No word.
It might not be heard.
Nonetheless, the wind is a mockingbird.
One should have remembered.
That calmness is to be revered.
A time wherein tranquility is reserved
Better yet let it not be reversed.
There should be a space of solitude.
You, yourself could have understood,
How peaceful it was to play a flute
That sends shivers to the deepest root.
Ísycha Monaxiá 
There is some beautiful mystery that you have entwined so well, particularly in the first and last verse
Nonetheless, the wind is a mockingbird.
How peaceful it was to play a flute
Those were brilliant touches in the poem 🙂 🙂
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