She came to hear an artist speak,
but God spoke.
He spoke through a blind woman who led her through the spotted shadows along the river’s edge--
the “places of rest within life.”
She sat beneath a shadow just two days prior
on the surface of a southern bayou,
and the peace filled her like the water in the palette dipped at the boat’s side
as she traced edges of trunks and leaves.
The leaves whose spaced placements created dazzling dancing patterns along the kitchen wall
when she woke up the day before,
and whose remains lie scattered today amid the discarded flower petals of a spring wind
into arrangements calculated carefully not by she.
(Written May 6, 2014)