Dreaming in Birdsong: Haiku

Poets have often been inspired by birds. Their soaring flight & lyrical songs, their images symbols of freedom & hope. Their beauty in many different colours, the intricate creations of their nests. I’ve written before of singing birds – the nightingale, the lark. How songs of birds shaped me, caused me to wonder and notice the air around & within me.

Now I wonder: Could I write a poem of one single bird, one single breath of time in its life and my own? I see and hear it as a haiku, spoken or sung aloud. A poem set to music for one particular voice, one experience that is both natural and dream-like, connected yet separate.

Dreaming in Birdsong: Haiku

Morning Song

Golden feathers burst

in morning song, G-major

bright tones dazzling, true

Western Meadowlark

Lark spreads speckled wings

gliding across calm water

hope filling dawn air

Green finch and linnet

Afternoon Song

Green feathers humming

delights in sun-dappled trees

shimmering wings soar

Thrush nightingale

Night Song

Blue dream-song floating

in moonlit branch, E-minor

haunting melodies

Copyright 8/25/17 Stacie EirichΒ 

Originally posted Β 8/3/16Β 

Listen to my recordings of these poems read aloud at the Soundcloud link above.

You can also read more on birdsongs, voices and spaces in a post I wrote at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads on 8/4/16. Click the link below to check it out.

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/08/voices-spaces-songbirds-dreaming-with.html

Thank you for visiting Space to Dream, reading, and listening.

Happy Easter!Β 

πŸ’–πŸ•Š

Heart wakes, Hope rising

On wings of new dawn

Patches of light pulling

Easing through drifting clouds

Floating through the sparkling sea

Lifting, lighting my eyes

Opening its doors

Awakening in my soul, a passion

Threads of life stitched together by stars

Sun sparkling on the sandy shore of dreams.

 πŸ’–πŸ•Š

Hope is the crystal blue of a mother’s eyes, the clear sky blue of a robin’s egg, a spring day. 

Hope is the sweet smell of cookies baking, warm chocolate chip. 

Hope is ice cream cones, warm blankets, soft feather pillows. 

Hope is comfort, home. Hope is also new, like just finished laundry smelling of lavender & cotton. 

Hope is fresh, wet ink on a crisp Is there Hope in the sea, or does it belong only to the sky? Birds have it in flight, but fish swim fast and glide with it. A heart can glide & fly with even a small bit of Hope. “First star on the right and straight on till morn!” I hear Peter saying. 

Hope is imagination and colours, an entire rainbow full of them. A sky and universe so vast that no human could have created it.

 πŸ’–πŸ•Š

And so I’m back to God, bringer of Hope, Ultimate Caretaker. We light candles for Hope Eternal but too quickly our tiny flames burn out, extinguished by an ever-present wind: Time. We return to the earth yet Hope remains, to wake again with the sun. 

β˜€οΈπŸ¦‹πŸŒ·

Have a Blessed Easter Sunday, filled with hope & love!

🌸 Copyright Stacie Eirich April 16, 2017