Artist: Oscar Bluhm

Rustling Leaves

Sara sits outside in her chair, book in hand
Absorbed with the characters of her inner world

Drawn deeper inside with each page
She races breathlessly through the words

In this scene, Maggie walks along the trail
Will Matt be waiting at their spot, she wonders?

Sara thinks, “He should be Maggie’s true love”
But, she knows it’s not that simple … life never is

She takes a breath as she turns the page
Maggie rounds the corner of the trail and …

A soft rustling of leaves catches Sara’s attention
She looks up from her book and smiles at a blue jay

He looks at her as if to ask “Is he there?”
She smiles within at the moment shared

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Whisper Lake

As she walks alone through the woods
She feels the cool autumn breeze on her skin

A smile as she remembers her grandma’s story
The breeze – kisses from her wood fairy friends

Her mom tried to explain that grandma was gone
But she knew her grandma was now among the fairies

She feels her grandma’s spirit at play on her walk
The way her skirt dances across her knees with each step

She smiles at the familiar sweet smells and sensations
The fragrance emanating from the leaves on the trees

The cool breeze picks up as she nears the shore of the lake
She hears her grandma’s lyrical voice echo along the waves

And as the sun light sparkles along the lake’s surface
She smiles inside to see her grandma in the reflections

With a whisper wind carried along its surface
She hears and returns kisses to her grandma

Hi grandma – yes, I hear you…

Michael

Artist: Childe Hassam

Silence

With her index finger lightly touching her lower lip, Kristen stares out of her bedroom window – lost in thoughts of Michael. Moments ago, she was flowing along in his arms – was it really moments ago she wonders? She looks back to her bed – so comforting earlier – empty now.

He came to her this morning in her dream – it has to mean something. The fourth night in a row she dreamt him. And yet … she still hadn’t heard from him – not a single word. Is this really how it ends she wonders … nothing but empty silence?

As if he hears her thoughts, her favorite red cardinal pierces the silence with a series of musical chirps – evoking an instant smile that transforms her worried face. Kristen finds him in his usual spot – the oak tree branch just above the bird feeder. He seems to be looking right at her as he lets out another series of chirps – followed by a long silence – as if he expects her reply.

Thankful for the momentary reprieve from silence, her thoughts slowly return to Michael. But now, she feels the notes start to return and play in her mind. She moves her fingers to her chest and begins to tap out the melody – to bring the music close to her heart. She feels the notes resonate within her – she smiles inside to see her friend still watching her – does he know she wonders?

The music begins to evolve and expand within her. Michael is close – he has to be – she hears him in the music – her passion on fire. Without realizing it, she sweeps her hands in the air – the notes play on her fingertips. She quickly walks in rhythm with the notes to the door and towards her piano in the parlor – she has to release them into the air.

Sitting at her piano, with eyes closed – her fingers momentarily rest silent on the keys. She feels his presence – the silence ends now.

Reply

Vaguely watching the branches sway in the breeze, Michael wonders why he dreamt Kristen again. He looks back to his bed – once so comforting – simply empty now. Four days – and more importantly, four nights – he hadn’t heard from her – not a single word. The silence echoes more loudly with each passing day.

Suddenly realizing his index finger is lightly touching his lower lip, he smiles – a sad smile all the same. He sees her clearly; her finger on her lip – so delicate – so inviting. And here, he is – alone, looking out of his bedroom window. Is this really how it ends he wonders … nothing but empty silence?

As if she hears his thoughts, a cardinal pierces the silence with a series of musical chirps – evoking a genuine smile that transforms his face. Michael spots her in a swaying oak tree branch. She seems to be looking right at him as she lets out another series of chirps – followed by a long silence – as if she expects his reply. And there is a reply – but not from Michael.

He hears another series of musical chirps – different from his cardinal. She hears it too – her head darting up and down in rhythm to the chirps. She gives Michael a long look before darting from the branch towards his window and then banking in the direction of the chirps.

As his cardinal flies out of sight, his thoughts slowly return to Kristen. He notices his fingers tapping on his chest. That’s when he begins to wonder – couldn’t be – could it? Kristen’s red cardinal… and before he realizes what his soul already knows, Michael is heading towards her.

Presence

With her fingers alive and ready to play, Kristen takes a deep breath – not yet, she thinks – does she really feel his presence she wonders? A sudden loud burst of chirps surprises her – and she smiles seeing her red cardinal sitting in an oak tree branch, visible from her parlor window.

But, it is the slightly different burst of chirps that really catches her ear – and she spots another cardinal a branch away from her red cardinal – hopping closer as she chirps. Mesmerized by their dance, Kristen feels Michael’s presence flow through her – he is here – he has to be, she thinks.

She feels him silently enter the room – no words as he sits behind her – she knows he is intently watching her. With eyes closed, her fingers begin their dance across the keys – the music in rhythm with the cardinals’ singing – and he closes his eyes to take in her beauty as the music washes over him.

Kristen smiles inside knowing he hears her playing to him from her soul – without a word, they connect. Her whole body flows with the music released through her fingers. She feels his electric touch with each stroke of the keys – anticipating between each note.

With the last note, she dares to open her eyes – and turns around to find only a shadow playing against the chair – where Michael should be. “But, his presence is so strong”, she sighs – and the two cardinals – and the dreams – it has to mean something.

A little lost, she looks to the cardinals in the tree as if to ask “What now?” She decides she must be seeing things – is that a smile from her red cardinal? Perplexed, she absently traces her finger along her lower lip – momentarily lost in thoughts of Michael. And then … and then … the familiar knock on her door takes her breath away…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Dream

Slowly turning onto his back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Adam tries to grasp the shadowy remnants of his dream with his waking mind – but, they quickly fade away. “Damn, I can still feel them – so close”, he thinks. He smiles with a sigh at the beginning of his daily routine. Every morning he wakes up – hoping to capture the memories of his dreams. Why do so many of his friends seem to remember their dreams in vivid detail – and not him, he wonders?

Every now and then he remembers – which always spark creative writing thoughts for him. Capturing lightning in a bottle comes to mind when he thinks of those mornings. But not this morning, though something is definitely teasing the edges of his mind – he can sense it. It’s just out of reach – something important.

Overcoming the natural inertia of his body, he slowly swings his legs over the side of the bed – “almost up”, he smiles. A voice in his head says “sleep in five more minutes – maybe you’ll remember your dream.” Adam almost laughs out loud at the thought – another daily argument with himself … and sometimes he loses. Not today though, as he stands up and heads to the bathroom.

A little later and a little more awake after a shower and a shave, he dresses and walks into the den. The familiar musky smell of books greets him – he pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. “Who will I read today?” he wonders as he traces his fingers over the bindings of the books along his bookshelves. He stops at Anna Karenina by Tolstoy – “Hmm, wonder why this one feels right today?”

Adam pulls the well-worn book off the shelf and opens it at the first page. He reads aloud, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” With a sigh, “Yes, I always liked that first line”, he thinks. Closing the book, he absently walks over to the window and opens it to feel the cool autumn breeze. He smiles at the sight of glistening maple leaves still clinging to their branches – defiant to the end, radiant with bold and vibrant colors.

The fresh smell of wet leaves waft through the open window and makes him think of coffee – and the cafe. Closing the window, he heads out the door with Anna Karenina firmly in his hand. Thoughts of her form in his mind as he breathes in the fresh autumn air – walking through the park on his way to his favorite café. As he nears the café, he feels something different is afoot … though he’s not sure what … perhaps something he saw in his dream … and for some reason he can’t help but smile at that thought.

Cafe

Walking into the café, Adam spots Angela taking an order from one of the early morning customers. She gives Adam a surprised look and takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall. Adam follows her glance to the clock – yes, he is here earlier than usual today. He smiles at her and starts towards his usual table in the back, but quickly sees that it is occupied.

Well, today will be different he thinks – and takes an empty table near the front. He sits facing the front screen door, laying his book on the table – and begins to read. After a few minutes, Angela comes over with his usual coffee and states the obvious, “You’re here early, Hun.” “Yes, I guess I needed to see you earlier today”, he teases knowing it will make her smile – and it does.

As she already knows what he will order, Angela leaves without asking and Adam returns his attention to Anna Karenina. Albeit at a different table, he slips comfortably into his normal routine – letting the words take him away as the buzz of small talk all around slowly fades away. He is vaguely aware of the soft breeze flowing through the screen door – yes, a comfortable flow.

A sudden gust of wind blows the screen door open, momentarily breaking his flow in Anna’s story. As he looks up towards the door, a vision walks in as if directly out of the pages of his book. Her aura of beauty envelops him on first glance. She starts to glide past him without notice … ah, but then with a flash of recognition “Anna Karenina?” she beams “I love Tolstoy’s stories.”

Without prompting she sits down beside him – and that’s when a shadowy remnant of his dream from last night smiles in his consciousness. They chat over cooling cups of coffee as their story is written. Perhaps, it is predefined destiny that she walks in this day at this time. Perhaps, it is random chance that he brings Anna Karenina with him today.

Whatever the reason, the sweet fragrance of soggy leaves on the autumn breeze agrees with them as they begin their life together in the dream café.

Michael

Artist: Christine Comyn

Footsteps

As she rounds the bend in the trail, Megan feels the cool breeze coming off the lake wash over her – she imagines his touch. Looking at the familiar park bench situated just on the edge of the trail – with its picturesque view of the lakefront through the trees, she pauses and wonders why she puts herself through this emotional torture each Saturday morning.

And yet – as if her legs have a will of their own, they walk her over to the bench – she relents and sits – just like she has done each Saturday for a while. And – seeming to agree with her actions, she hears the rustling of the leaves in their dance with the breeze – as well as a pair of cardinals fluttering from branch to branch – finally settling nearby to join her.

Megan sighs and smiles at the remembered conversations with Peter. “This is a fairytale”, she told him several times. After all, it was the only way she could describe how perfectly irrational their relationship was. Could it even be described as a relationship she wondered – more than once? They never actually met.

Yet, she knew him – knew things about him that no one else did. And he knew her – knew things about her that no one else did. There was a connection deeper than physical – she knew it – she felt it – yes … this was a relationship she decided. And there were certain moments when she dared to believe it could be more – it could be real. But, it was complicated – real life always is she thought.

A slight spray from the lake carried by the breeze brought her momentarily out of her thoughts. Megan brightened and smiled – it was Peter of course. And without thinking she said – as she always did when sitting on this bench, “Good morning Peter – miss you.” And as he had told her many times, “I will hear you – always … just call my name” – she waited for his response in the breeze. The two cardinals sudden chirping made her smile broaden.

But, it was the oddly familiar voice in the distance and footsteps approaching the bend that caught her by surprise – and did she really just hear someone whisper her name?

The Leaf

Stretching and looking out his window, Peter loses himself in the sway of the branches and the chaotic movements of the leaves as they dance with the breeze. He finds himself following one leaf in particular. At first, he isn’t sure why – but something in the way it moves pulls his eyes to it. It seems to stand out from the other leaves – in a private dance with nature – free from the others.

Then he suddenly realizes … it reminds him of Megan. “Of course”, he says with a smile. With thoughts renewed, Peter returns to his desk and her story – his fingers poised over the keyboard. But instead of starting to immediately write the new ideas forming in his head, he pauses and looks pass the screen to the view outside his window – as the rhythmic dance between the leaves and the breeze continue. Where is that special leaf he wonders – he can’t find it now – it seems to have blended in with the rest.

A red cardinal flies into view and lands in one of the trees. Peter imagines it is his cardinal friend – the same one he sees almost everyday in his backyard. He watches with wonder as his friend hops forward with seeming purpose a few times on the branch as it sways erratically in the breeze. And that’s when he notices – his special leaf – on that branch.

The sight brings him a smile – a sad smile yet – and he tries to return to her story. Not quite yet though – Peter gets up again and walks around his desk to the window. And though it is hot outside today, he decides he needs to open the window – he has to hear the breeze. He smiles as he sees his friend looking towards him and as if in agreement with Peter’s actions, his friend lets out a series of chirps.

Back at his desk, Peter rereads the beginning of her story. As he left her, Megan is sitting on the park bench overlooking the lake from the edge of the trail. She calls out “Good morning Peter – miss you” – her voice carries along the breeze through his open window.

And he hears…

Michael

Artist: Christine Comyn

In Her Eyes

in her eyes, he sees
the magic of their first kiss
as he pulls her close

Michael

Artist: Christine Comyn

In Her Eyes

In her eyes, he sees
A carefree walk through the woods

In her eyes, he sees
The leaves dancing with the breeze

In her eyes, he sees
A pair of cardinals at play in the trees

In her eyes, he sees
Her hand slide into his – sparks

In her eyes, he sees
Strawberries, M&Ms, hearts and stars

In her eyes, he sees
The magic of their first kiss

In her eyes, he sees
His world filled with the possibility of love

In her eyes, he sees
His smile … and hers

Michael