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by Nathan Sweem
She knows the way to hidden vales where imaginations flourish. The ones that lie outside our reach: forbidden wellsprings of beautiful things. Untouched creation calls to her from savage wilderness. She sees it before it has ever existed. The bounds of life we wrap around ourselves do not hold her back. Her spirit wanders freely into realms where new sounds play on untamed air, across swaths of virgin meadows. She speaks to the unknown, calls it down from unseen heights to dance on her fingertips. Art is the fabric of her existence, stretched delicately over the rigid structure of our world. Wondrous specters whisper stories to her while she tries to sleep. She remembers when starlight drifted on the night she was born, spoke words of love and courage, burdened her with colorful, shimmering visions of long forgotten worlds. Her head swims with so many miracles. Each thought sends a galaxy of sparks falling fast. She gathers every last one, nurtures its brilliance, sets it adrift in her vast stellar garden, changing its course unapologetically. In curvilinear orbits they return to find her under a heavy canopy of tall mountain groves basking in a fiery dance of nature's many-colored splendor.
©Nathan Sweem 2023