They lean in,
nestled down in thicket
meant to protect;
you would miss them,
walk right past them,
if not attentive,
to these gentle
creatures
who pause
and wonder why
we rush past
when we
are meant to linger,
to sway like trees,
to lean in like deer,
to stay in the shaded
pathway and wonder
at each blade of grass,
each new bud,
each swath of overgrowth,
each birdsong,
each changing wind,
this breathing rhythm
of creation as it is,
as it will be,
as it has always
been.
—C.L. Fisher, March 2021
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 