'I sometimes wonder if that is what Krishna meant--

Among other things -- or one way of putting the same thing:
That the future is a faded song, a Royal Rose or a lavender spray
Of wistful regret for those who are not yet here to regret,
Pressed between yellow leaves of a book that has never been opened.
And the way up is the way down, the way forward is the way back.'
Eliot, Dry Salvages III

Which is a long way of saying that for those of you who like your futile arranging of withering flowers, or your wistful combining of always-already evaporating scents, accompanied by faded song free of cost, you can go to choraltreasure.org and get your fill of the sepulchrine, the sacred, the plain and the polyphonic.