We walked the path together with our eyes.
The lichen dappled down north side of wood,
whose flashing needles knit love’s song and stood
with wispy thoughts and almost peaceful sighs.
Wind coaxed the lacy green to merge with skies.
I think myself, in truest likelihood
a star had laid its head right where we stood
and sought with cunning us to mesmerize.

Its silent voice spoke through the sheen of grass:
“Fate is not yours to choose or to foresee—”
And so I give myself to thoughtful error,
with full-grown knowledge that this too shall pass.
Abide, Enchantment, long we wait for thee,
come wrap our wondering hearts with gracious terror.


phoebePhoebe Anthus finds her joy in quiet places, in the eyes of a child or simply in noticing little things. Her passion is to help create beauty out of the brokenness all around us.

 

 

 


Photography by Kenneth Godoy
Painting by Phoebe Anthus

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