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Archive for December, 2009

a solitary bird

My soul arose at dawn and, listening, heard

One voice abroad, a solitary bird,
A song not master of its note, a cry
That persevered into eternity.
My soul leaned out into the dawn to hear
In the world’s solitude its winged compeer
And, hearkening what the Angel had to say,
Saw lustre in midnight and a secret day
Was opened to it. It beheld the stars
Born from a thought and knew how being prepares.
Then I remembered how I woke from sleep
And made the skies, built earth, formed ocean deep.

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a bird does not fall in air

A fish cannot drown in water,
A bird does not fall in air.
In the fire of creation,
God doesn’t vanish:
The fire brightens.
Each creature God made
must live in its own true nature;
How could I resist my nature,
That lives for oneness with God?

Mechthild of Magdeburg

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question

QUESTION

If one were to wake
in the star fading time
when small birds, finch
bright and sparrow brown
begin their journey into day.

would it all return
in one gigantic rush,
that knowledge of love
that entered our lungs at birth
and sent us
reeling into life,
to seek it
the rest of our lives?

Karla Andersdatter

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what do we give back?

“I speculate over some of the Anglo nomenclature of birds: Wilson’s snipe, Forster’s tern . . . : What natural images do these names conjure up in our minds? What integrity do we give back to the birds with our labels.”

Terry Tempest Williams

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a real haiku

A real haiku’s gotta be as simple as porridge and yet make you see the real thing, like the greatest haiku of them all probably is the one that goes ‘The sparrow hops along the veranda, with wet feet.’ By Shiki. You see the wet footprints like a vision in your mind and yet in those few words you also see all the rain that’s been falling that day and almost smell the wet pine needles.

Jack Kerouac


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death of a sparrow


Cosmic upheaval, is not so moving as a little child pondering the death of a sparrow in the corner of a barn.

Thomas Savage

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The kiss of the sun for pardon, The song of the birds for mirth, One is nearer God’s Heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth.

Dorothy Frances Gurney


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