Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?
— Matthew 6:26
I sit shifting between one book and then another; my interests far ranging as an image or new understanding sends me down another path and I happily traipse, chasing wisdom. In between I unite pen to paper and my hand can barely keep pace with the musings rushing from my head — a jumble of beautiful thoughts. I move from chalk paint restoration (preparation and finishing is everything) to poetic tradition (constancy of rhythm, metrical form, imagery & metaphor) to Sibley’s guide to birds and Stott’s biblical lessons based on his birdwatching observations (140 species of owls; morning bird song is known as the “dawn chorus” — I now know why I love waking early because this concert begins at 4am). This is a wondrous earth filled with fascination upon fascination, so much to learn. All of the how to & why books are secondary to the moments I am truly lost in art — viewing a Monet or Van Gogh, listening to Casals play the cello, comprehending a new line of poetry, marveling at a new bloom, witnessing the dapple of light through the trees, watching a winged singer on a high branch, chewing on the nuances of a favorite bible verse while listening to that bird and around him the wind through the leaves — a symphony complete. Oh, glorious God, thank you for creation and my blessed part in it!
–C.L. Fisher, June 2020
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Poetic Meanderings 