Thursday, June 12, 2014

cherub on a weed


at the height of my incalculable query
of life, of me existing in it
in my quiet noise as I stand alone
i hear a violin play a diminuendo
then a soft bow lined with hair of mane
brings me back

i see a bird is perched in a lowly weed
in a field covered in a mist of gray
it sees me looking and lifts into its nest
of where it resides, the air, the sky,
it gathers the wind underneath its wings
and flies on

i stand there breathless, in awe
why can’t i do that, I ask
then i recall,  i think i have
sometimes in my dreams by night
sometimes in my reverie in day

then I see this winged cherub
return to that lowly grass weed
where it had perched upon before
this time it sits looking at me
tilts its head, its crown,
in this moment, i exist   
  

*inspired by photographs from a white space: one brave soul awakes
   and her reference to Olafur Amalds “Faun”

4 comments:

  1. I LOVE this poem, and the image of the "winged cherub" tilting his head at you. Yesterday I saw something I had never seen before - a small bird - not a hummingbird - sitting on the hummingbird feeder trying to sip from the flowerets.........it must have been thirsty! I was rather amazed.

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  2. nene, i'm glad the experience spoke to you. even though i was there i have a difficult time imagining it, and can hardly remember what it truly was like. your poem picks me up alongside the bird. lovely, my friend.

    (no reference is necessary, nene, but to olafur and the bird itself:) it is incredible music, isn't it? on youtube you can find an awesome playlist of his music. my son and i listen to it often.)

    xo
    erin

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  3. gracias to three of my most cherished creative amigas. have a most fulfilling weekend

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