The ‘Queen of the Night’s Aria’ permeated the forest. Palette in hand, I painted hues of greens, pinks, oranges and bright reds. The colorful leaves shone brightly between the sun and the moon. In a quickening moment, at the highest note, I finished the hairy vines climbing toward the light. I painted berries green, as if in a dream. They turned white, then cream-white. They were ready. The magic flute announced completion. The birds came at once to feast. I touched up leaves brownish yellow. Then winter came and all the berries were gone, in the forest of poetry. |