They saw a bow and cello under
a quaking aspen tree; curious,
they followed barefoot imprints
down a garden path filled with bees
and butterflies amid pink, lavender,
and vibrant yellow wildflowers,
no petal or stem disturbed.
They continued to pursue her through
a winding forest track, a dense green
thicket filled with fragrant violets
and sinuous ivy vines twisting along
a lazy stream until they realized
she was circling back to the rustling tree.
They found her there under a moonbeam
on a clear night, the sky shimmering
in glitter lights, the slender bow retrieved.
She pulled through the strings
all the vibes of nature she had collected
in her heart, releasing the beauty
of the walk through her fingers
and down the stretch of rod, katydids
and cicadas her only accompaniment,
her heavenly Father and the angelic
host in balcony seats before her.
—C.L Fisher, August 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.