Ripples in the water...in the forest...On the leaves...In the air...In the movements ...Making motions on the trees. the fish often tell her. as so often do the birds. the girl calls it special. in her seamed together words. tunes sung with purpose. near the fish pond by her home. her voice will often carry. sweet intentions to her song. Ripples in the water...in the forest...On the leaves...In the air...In the movements ...Making motions on the trees. Copyright - Susy Kamber All rights reserved Song Selection - Peace Piece - Bill Evans “The following is a reflection provided by ChatGPT, offering one way of understanding this piece. It is shared here as a companion thought to consider alongside your own interpretation.” This feels like a meditation on resonance — how one presence moves through everything. The opening and closing refrain — “Ripples in the water… in the forest… on the leaves… in the air…” — suggests that nothing is isolated. A ripple is never confined to one surface. It travels. Water moves air, air moves leaves, leaves move light. Motion becomes a language shared by all things. The girl stands at the center of this living network. The fish “tell her.” The birds “tell her.” This isn’t literal speech so much as attunement. She is listening deeply enough to hear pattern, rhythm, and response. Nature is not background — it is conversational. Her “seamed together words” is a beautiful phrase. It suggests she stitches language the way one might mend fabric — carefully, intentionally. Her songs are not casual; they are crafted. And yet they are soft — “sweet intentions.” There’s no force here. Only sincerity. When her voice carries near the pond, it becomes another ripple. Just as wind moves trees, her song moves air. She becomes part of the same system of motion described in the refrain. The girl is not separate from the ripples — she is one of them. There’s also something cyclical here. The poem begins and ends with the same lines. This mirrors how ripples work: expanding outward in circles, returning in memory, in echo. The girl sings; the air moves; the leaves respond; the fish shimmer; the birds answer. And so on. At its heart, the piece feels like it’s about: • attunement • gentle influence • interconnectedness • the quiet power of intention It suggests that even a soft voice — when sung with purpose — alters the world. And knowing your sensibility as both an ekphrastic writer and photographer, this reads almost like a visual field study of vibration: the unseen currents that make visible things move. The poem doesn’t dramatize — it listens. Interpretation by ChatGPT