Author’s note: This piece combines (a) a work of photography-based digital art and (b) a parallel meditation in the form of imaginative prose.
© Randy Heffner
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I have not been to our old spot since you went away. I trust what you said, that you will come back, but by now it feels like the waters flow without me.
I know you get the notes I send to you, but I wish it were possible for you to reply. I remember the things you told me, but I long to again hear your voice. Or maybe if only I had from you something physical, concrete. A token by which to know.
Always it was rich just being still together, and when we would talk, your voice and the rush of the falls would blend as cello and violin. I fear the forest will reclaim our spot and the red path to it. But then… But then, I suppose at our spot there are thousands of tokens. Every leaf a gift, all the moss on every rock and tree, the vines, the palms, even the wind and the fallen leaves that pave the red path. The music of the falls would summon your voice to my ears. It does not sit alone, our spot. I will arise and meet you there.
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by Randy Heffner
Randy lives at the intersection of philosophy, theology, and culture — reading, watching, walking, and sometimes creating in search of our better selves. Film and photography have a lot to do with it, but anyway, art. The tie is an anomaly.