I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

This blog is not, 'Here are my very best poems'. It's for work in progress, subject to revision.
Posts may be updated without notice at any time. Completed work appears in my books.

12 March 2008

Among Trees

Birds are the first thing I hear
when I sit down beside the fig and the hoop pine. Lots of them,
chirruping conversationally
from tree to tree, sounding happy
in the late sun softened by a breeze.

Then I hear the sea,
continual, always our background.
The cyclist in the park glides silently
but the birds notice and comment: a sudden flurry of music.

When I listen deeper, I hear
the leaves moving very gently
fluttering like feathers. It seems the trees
are spreading wings and preening, it seems they smile.
I rest my chin in my hands. I am in no hurry to go anywhere.

The circling branches of the fig
make a frame for the park and the road beyond.
The sun starts to burn my back through my nylon blouse.
A helicopter growls and chugs in the clouds.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

11/3/08

My friend Raeline, visiting in January from overseas, gave me a reading with her Spiritual Voyager cards. One thing I was told was to go out into nature, listen to nature, and then write my poems. It's productive!

2 comments:

  1. The sound of aeroplanes on a clear day is something I associate strongly with summer and countryside. And here too is your helicopter (caught up, incidentally, in a very nice line).

    It is funny how we have come to associate the least natural of things with the most.

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  2. When I lived really in the country, as distinct from the present coastal village, it was tractors on hot, lazy afternoons! :)

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