The streaks of film cover the pond partly — like dust glittering beneath the reflection of the willow and weed. The brush blocks the breeze that disperses this glaze into patterns in motion. On top of the still water the fragile membrane breaks and scatters apart as the air drops into its basin. The wind is the artist that gently smooths her brush across the fluid canvas where snapper turtles split the seems by bobbing their heads from beneath. Hungry perch are peering for long legged spiders dancing across the grainy surface like splattered dark specks of paint. And God speaks through the sounds and sights of life.
Springing off a low hanging cypress limb, two sparrows soar, dancing in the air and flirting with the prospects of their future nest egg. A rabbit returns to the same spot it frequents each dawn. Its nest is near where vulnerable offspring nurse. Bashful doe hide behind the fence row and this one fowl squeaks out her song. Bees dart into yellow blooms. A hummingbird hovers over sweet nectar. And God speaks through the sounds and sights of life.
The weathered cocoon still hangs on the twig but it vibrates from turmoil deep within the chamber of its heart. It shivers and splits, opening the gate. It draws on unknown strength to burst out. Orange, lined in black paisley wings, it floats gently into the cloud and the dreams of a green thing glued to the dusty earth come true! And God speaks through the sounds and sights of life.
© W. Stephen Williams
(Please post any comments on our FaceBook page. The link is in the menu at the top of this page. Thanks)