Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Common Inspiration--Uncommon Creations.23






"Bird songs recorded in the forest of Fontainebleau (France). You can especially hear some wrens." 
The author, barracuda1983, has released this work into the Public Domain. It can be found on Wikimedia Commons.


BIRDSONG

The leader of the early morning bird walk was a quiet-spoken angular man.
He led us across dew-soaked grass to the forest's edge.

Robins and Bluejays were spotted in the October sky;
Carolina Wrens sang way too loudly for their diminutive size.

Rarely were there surprises.
I remember mostly the comforting sameness of the walks.

Sassafras leaves, worm castings, 
and the sound of the woods waking up with a song in its heart.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013




I find peace and solace in this space
with only the birds singing
their musical refrains.

When no one is watching or aware,
I join in, too,
meshing my harsh voice with theirs.

We remix nature together,
them and I, here in these woods,
until only the sunset quiets us down.

As the moon rises it skyward arc,
the birds fall silent, to sleep,
yet still, I sing into starlight.

©Kevin Hodgson, 2013



From Linda (TeacherDance):

Back Home

Rasp and chatter
Carolina Wren
calls me
back to my forest friends
teakettle, teakettle
cheer cheer
cardinal flashing
spring is here

alive with chicka-dee dee
leafy-damp smell
walking in my forest
all is well

©Linda Baie, 2013



From Steve (Inside the Dog):

Where?

Where does
the birds’ song
come from?
Of course,
we know:
from deep inside
and past
the narrow
cords of sinew,
a drawn breath
squeezed tight,
a tiny explosion
of must
flung to the sky.
These things we
know. But
where does
the birds’ song
come from?
And how can
it alight so precisely
in the heart?

© Steve Peterson, 2013


From Carol (Carol's Corner):


frigid april morning
red breasted robin huddles
saving songs for spring


busy shovels throw
piles of wet slushy snow
no bird songs today


Hey Mr. Redbreast
ignore this swirling gray whiteness
sing your song of spring


welcome mr. robin
glad you brought your own sunshine
to this cloudy day


Three April blizzards
long to listen to bird songs
not clanking shovels


Mr. Weatherman
we should be planting flowers
not shoveling snow


One more blizzard then
we shut the door on winter
and welcome bird's song


Bird choir ignores
howling April blizzard to
sing spring aria.


April showers bring
May flowers, April blizzards
bring grumpy poets 

©Carol Wilcox, 2013


    

The theme of my 2013 National Poetry Month Project is 

"Common Inspiration--Uncommon Creations." 

Each day in April, I will feature media from the Wikimedia Commons ("a database of 16,565,065 freely usable media files to which anyone can contribute") along with bits and pieces of my brainstorming and both unfinished and finished poems.

I will be using the media to inspire my poetry, but I am going to invite my students to use my daily media picks to inspire any original creation: poems, stories, comics, music, videos, sculptures, drawings...anything!

You are invited to join the fun, too! Leave a link to your creation in the comments and I'll add it to that day's post. I'll add pictures of my students' work throughout the month as well.

12 comments:

  1. I find peace and solace in this space
    with only the birds singing
    their musical refrains.

    When no one is watching or aware,
    I join in, too,
    meshing my harsh voice with theirs.

    We remix nature together,
    them and I, here in these woods,
    until only the sunset quiets us down.

    As the moon rises it skyward arc,
    the birds fall silent, to sleep,
    yet still, I sing into starlight.

    -Kevin

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love the 'story' of this, Kevin, all the way from sun up to sundown. I was in the rain forest with students once on a night hike and then the moon came up-magical time! I like especially "I sing into starlight"!

      Delete
    2. I can imagine your remix -- sing on!

      Delete
  2. Your wealth of knowledge with all the embedding of new ways to post on your blog is amazing to me. The poetry is a gift every morning. Thank you- "see you tonight"

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your sounds woke me up too Mary Lee. I love that line about the 'sameness'-comforting that! Here's mine!


    Back Home

    Rasp and chatter
    Carolina Wren
    calls me
    back to my forest friends
    teakettle, teakettle
    cheer cheer
    cardinal flashing
    spring is here

    alive with chicka-dee dee
    leafy-damp smell
    walking in my forest
    all is well
    ©Linda Baie, 2013

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My favorite part:

      "teakettle, teakettle
      cheer cheer
      cardinal flashing
      spring is here"

      Rejoice! (If it will only stop snowing in Colorado, eh?!?!)

      Delete
    2. yes, another snowy Tuesday! But it's melting...

      Delete
  4. Thanks for the bird song poem, Mary Lee. Just this morning I saw the first white-throated sparrows on the ground around the feeder. Their song is soulful. Here's a birdsong poem inspired by yours and the recording.

    Where?

    Where does
    the birds’ song
    come from?
    Of course,
    we know:
    from deep inside
    and past
    the narrow
    cords of sinew,
    a drawn breath
    squeezed tight,
    a tiny explosion
    of must
    flung to the sky.
    These things we
    know. But
    where does
    the birds’ song
    come from?
    And how can
    it alight so precisely
    in the heart?

    © Steve Peterson

    ReplyDelete
  5. Steve! Welcome to the poetry party!!

    I love your "tiny explosion / of must". Lovely.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I think tonight I'm just going to savor the words created by my poetry friends. Beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  7. frigid april morning
    red breasted robin huddles
    saving songs for spring


    busy shovels throw
    piles of wet slushy snow
    no bird songs today

    Hey Mr. Redbreast
    ignore this swirling gray whiteness
    sing your song of spring


    welcome mr. robin
    glad you brought your own sunshine
    to this cloudy day



    Three April blizzards
    long to listen to bird songs
    not clanking shovels


    Mr. Weatherman
    we should be planting flowers
    not shoveling snow

    One more blizzard then
    we shut the door on winter
    and welcome bird's song


    Bird choir ignores
    howling April blizzard to
    sing spring aria.


    April showers bring
    May flowers, April blizzards
    bring grumpy poets

    ReplyDelete
  8. Carol, ONE haiku is taking a break! NINE is...well, nine is a beautiful story of impatience and longing!!

    ReplyDelete

We welcome your contribution to the conversation!