Cambodian Dancers, by Auguste Rodin
Birds begin their calls to praise.
And they are right. We stop and listen.
(We, behind masks and in costumes!)
What are they saying? A little report,
a little sorrow and a lot of promise
that chips away at the half-locked future.
And in between we can hear the silence
they break—now healing to our ears.
Uncollected Poems
What would the world be like without birds and birdsong? A poor place - as I said in my post of 8 April.
ReplyDeleteThe birds sing their praise in all honesty, truthfully. We, on the other hand hide our praise under appearances, as we want to present ourselves to our fellows, fearful of our Reality, which is Truth and beauty.
ReplyDeleteAnd the half locked future, not locked at all, but open to any mind which has changed. The beauty of a birdsong can remind us of that if we but listen with an open mind and a generous heart.
i woke to birdsong this morning as i am hopeful did most people in the western hemisphere. their happy, protective, territorial songs welcome back the sun, describe their wishes as plainly as can be, and bring life to the air. steven
ReplyDeleteThis is the season for bird songs. The issue is to open your ears and really listen, not always easy in a big city, especially when it comes to ejoying the silence in between. Fortunately there are some parks.
ReplyDeleteYou know how much I admire these Rodin drawings / aquarelles. At present there are some tens of them shown at the Matisse museum at Cateau-Cambrésis in the north of France.
They fit so perfectly here on your blog, considering how Rilke considered them to be the best of Rodin.
Lovely Rodin watercolors.
ReplyDeleteNoteworthy that what's healing here is the silence between the birdsong, not the birdsong itself.
The emphasis on silence is beautiful. The few times I have gone bird watching, I have felt that the walking, watching and listening are the real experience. Actually seeing a few birds is a bonus. The journey is the part that leaves me with such peace.
DeleteThe notion of birdsong chipping away 'at the half-locked future' is wondrously evocative. So, too, the idea that it is the broken silence that heals our ears, as Maureen has observed. Listening to the silence the birds break as the best way of being attentive and open to their song; is that where the healing comes from?
ReplyDeleteBirds inspire me, for many reasons. When I go out in the meadow and walk, sometimes they are all singing or chattering at once. Some days, they are silent. As a person who writes and thinks of birdsong as a calling, I deeply know that silence is where it begins, and continues, and stops and starts again. It really is something the way he has phrased those words, "the silence they break." The birdsong would be nothing without what has just been before, silently, and is still there in expanse all around, waiting, when it's broken.
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about birdsong a lot lately and this post touched my heart. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of Wallace Stevens in Thirteen Ways to Look at a Blackbird:
ReplyDeleteI do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes.
The blackbird whistling,
Or just after.