Song – Page 3

July 14, 2012July 14, 2012

Distant Rumbling

Image by Illustrator John Howe

riding within the ‘so called’
safety of the car
grey clouds hanging in
thick air as though
calling

with the promise of
lightning strikes
sky electric
followed by the distant
rumbling of thunder
clapping

bird song has left the
air currents
relishing the safety of
leafy boughs or
twig filled nests

brings back to my mind
a girl standing in
awe in front of a
living room window
no fear

watching the light show
waiting for the far
away sound of someone
bowling?

could it be the friends of
Rip Van Winkle playing
nine-pins in the
Catskill Mountains…
maybe

her imagination carried
adrift with glory
lightning strikes on
a summer’s afternoon
a childhood story

We have been having some odd weather lately as has been most of the entire earth and thunder and lightning storms, some without rain, (prevalent and common where I grew up in California) now here in Washington. While out today the sky was brilliant and I thought of one of my favorite stories “Rip Van Winkle” written by author Washington Irving in 1819. As a child when I looked at the sky lit up by lightning my mind just knew it was the men Rip met in the Catskills playing nine-pins. I never feared but as a child that is so much a part of growing up.

June 27, 2012

Mockingbird’s Yearning

wee small hours of the morning
call to me with the voice of
the Mockingbird’s yearning

calling out lyrics and notes
not his own but achingly
captured in his own throat

darkness hiding winged form
musical song simply rising
listen to quell the storm

awaken your soul come with me
symphony, sonnet now mine
taken to sing so lovingly

there he is with stolen song
trilling with great pleasure
beckoning me to sing along

creating light in the night sky
patterned prism colors rising
rapt audience of one sublime

longing for a song of his own
to widen the net of listeners
as though his voice has flown

but he knows only other’s muse
so claim them he does one by one
singing again without any ruse

wee small hours of the morning
call to me with the voice of
the Mockingbird’s yearning

During my visit here in sunny Southern California I was awakened to the sound of this beautiful creature’s song like no other. The Mocking Bird has no song of his own but when he sings all the songs of all the other birds it is as though a resonate sound of an orchestra has filled the morning hours.