Listening to Elgar’s Enigma Variations While Thinking about My Son’s Soul Perhaps the soul is a rogue cell from an unknown god slipping its wonders among the body’s atoms, weaving, knitting organs and muscle. An amorphous something residing in the heart’s chambers, sparking neurons in the brain. Cellos underlie violins, notes rise like a charm of goldfinches. Some think the soul takes flight when it leaves the body. A photo of my son on his snowboard, one arm raised, body airborne in blue sky. Woodwinds join, an upswelling until grace notes fade. I want to believe in my son’s soul. All rough woes soothed. I think of words from psalms lie down bless his life gather breath console
Valerie Bacharach’s writing has appeared or will appear in: Vox Viola, Vox Populi, Whale Road Review, The Blue Mountain Review, EcoTheo Review, and Kosmos Quarterly. Her chapbook, Fireweed, was published in August 2018 by Main Street Rag. Her chapbook Ghost-Mother was published by Finishing Line Press in July 2021.