Showing posts from February, 2019

A song sings the morning into being

a song sings the morning into being bootstraps the world from dark nothing notes flow out and tumble down the slope heading over heels bouncing off rocks, changing direction eddying into backwaters, spinning a while then petering out to a coda of afterthought amber music drips onto rich brown music even the splashes are music the song sings new leaves onto birches and paints the grass a deeper green more colours incant the parts that were missing filling them in because the song has made its own light now the song sings a bird to the top of tree then stops as the blackbird flies into the morning the morning it has made -------------------------------------------------------------------- There are several highlights for me that mark moments in the year – in nature. Many concern signs of spring – the first hazel catkins, the first Chiffchaff song ... Hearing the first blackbird song is one of these highlights - usually in January or February and usually