Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Blackbird

As the year and seasons change, we often focus on the visual indicators of these changes; the first flowers or blossom, the sun rising higher each day and setting later each evening, the average temperatures rising, and later in the year, the leaf colours changing hue and falling from their summer heights. But take a moment to shut your eyes, listen, can you tell the season by what you hear? Chiffchaffs arriving in spring are often first noticed through their characteristic call, the sound of swallows twittering over cornfields and skylarks soaring high in the sky singing all the while almost seem to be formed out of summer sunshine, the song of a robin in the glow of a lamp-post on a snowy evening brings festive cheer  to passers by. This week, blackbird song has been an almost constant sound in my garden, particularly strong in the morning and evening. The spirit-lifting sound inspired me to write the following poem.

Oh Blackbird, high in the greening tree
Do you know how sweet your song does sound to me?
Do you comprehend the joy you bring
when you gleefully utter those liquid notes
that announce the arrival of beautiful spring?
Oh Blackbird, beyond my open window,
at dusk you are my lullaby you know,
and in the morning you coax me away
from the sacred realms of sleep,
to dare to hope, to love, to laugh,
to make the most of each brand new day.
Oh Blackbird, I ask you, will you stay
and be the soundtrack of my summer days?

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