Sometimes that curiosity within,
a captivated child that still exists
when I push my pretensions aside,
makes life abound with such sweetness —
she is patient to attend the smallest
amusements in her awed regard
for all things enchanting —
a new bloom, the slant of light
through a tree, the way the grass
moves in the afternoon breeze.
She wonders at the coo of a dove,
the humming of bees, the murmur
of quaking aspen leaves,
the gurgle of a stream.
She is as satisfied with the beauty
of a ladybug shell as in the wonderment
she feels when she dreams
at the sight of Picasso’s Starry Night,
and she delights in the moon’s
soft light as much as the morning’s
sun against her cheek,
her faced turned up in thankfulness
for such a charming life complete
with gifts and pleasant passions,
creation’s beauty simplified
in the miraculous, God’s grace
magnified in life’s
little distractions.
—C.L. Fisher, May 2020
Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 