Birdsong
If I might for a moment go all soft
And corny; hold in humble hands aloft
A simple thought about a simple thing:
The sound of morning birds who sing and sing
As daylight starts its soft intrusive creep
And drives away the blurry world of sleep.
I find no message there, no metaphor
Or lesson to provide an underscore
That cheers the wayward heart or softens strife,
Yet nonetheless it somehow saves my life.
Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Agape Review, America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.
Nice – here’s an O2B verse on the same theme –
Oh to be the morning Robin
Chorusing to greet the dawn,
And to be the western margin
Of a continent of song.
Even without a metaphor, it’s a beautiful thought, and most certainly something to be thankful for. Life would seem much less worth living without the music of the birds. Thank you for a lovely wake up poem, Jeffrey.
Thank you, I loved this poem and the beautiful image above. These lines were especially beautiful for me:
As daylight starts its soft intrusive creep
And drives away the blurry world of sleep.
Well, it is a bit soft and corny. It’s not the best approach to tell the reader that right at the start.
Loved the poem, Jeffrey, as most of its thoughts resemble
my own. Your last two lines or I should say four, are perfect IMHO.