Beneath The Bow

God breathes
My flesh responds.
He makes melody on me, bending downy hairs
with a tingle...
And wind chimes whisper secrets, as the
tree bends,
ferns like lacy emerald shadows
move with the curtains parting.
I hear wood and metal dancing, touching;
creating moving sound with their unique expressions of air.
God passes,
the ancient porch bows...I kneel,
He breathes,
and my flesh quivers
like an instrument beneath the bow,
in the Master’s hand.