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| courtesy of wikipedia |
Early morning sky is a solemn gray
spring is aching to come into full bloom
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
children no longer go outside to play
when will a sense of normalcy resume
early morning sky is a solemn gray
blue jays sing hymns of enchanted tales
flowers will soon fill the air with perfume
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
Oh sweet sunlight break this moody day
with nature let our hearts beat in tune
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
children no longer go outside to play
when will a sense of normalcy resume
early morning sky is a solemn gray
blue jays sing hymns of enchanted tales
flowers will soon fill the air with perfume
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
Oh sweet sunlight break this moody day
with nature let our hearts beat in tune
early morning sky is a solemn gray
walls these days are hard to scale
in your heart give love some room
in your heart give love some room
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
from lips of hope, people begin to pray
who can break us from our own tomb
early morning sky is a solemn gray
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
early morning sky is a solemn gray
red robins sit on the peeling porch rail
sharing with earthweal
author's note: Today, I woke up to
the songs of two robins on my
porch rail. Their songs are hymns
of hope in trying times.
love, hope and health....
If I'm not mistaken this is a villanelle, and a lovely one; the echoing of lines and repeats rings perfectly into the heart its refrain of constraint and renewal. The robins are vividly alive, I can see the peeling paint, the very simplicity outlines how things have been reduced to primary colors and components by stress, yet something in our spirits carries on regardless.
ReplyDeleteI love the repeating lines. Songbirds are a hopeful sound these days. They are fortunate enough not to have to listen to the daily news, they go on building towards tomorrow. True, an iconic Vancouver Island wolf, beloved for eight years, was killed by a hunter on Tuesday. Broke my heart. Takaya. Another to mourn along with Tahlequah the whale. No end to the heartbreaking behaviour of humans.
ReplyDeleteAnimals have no idea what's happening. They just see a new day, the approach of spring. We need their sense of hope.
ReplyDeleteEvery morning I go outside to listen to birdsong. I love their serenade. Like you I question when this pandemic will end these gray days. Thank you for your lovely poem and your good wishes. Be safe, stay well.
ReplyDeleteThe birds sure just go about their day, singing happy and free, while humans stay within and can only listen.
ReplyDeleteThis is a beauty of a villanelle! The world is solemn and grey, but we still have nature to brighten it. The line that stands out for me is ‘children no longer go outside to play’, a sign of the times. We are all praying for release from these walls.
ReplyDeleteHi Truedessa - what a lovely poem heralding an early Spring - the American robin is so different to our little Christmas card one here - but it was a delight seeing them when I spent that time in Canada.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't heard of the term villanelle - but am pleased I've briefly checked it out ... while your poem is a sign of hope in the months ahead ... take care and all the best Hilary
(Okay, I figured it out. The commenting, I mean)
ReplyDeleteThe singsong repetition of this form is an act of compassion on your part. For those who have been thrown into tumult, for whatever reason, I’m sure the lilting rhythm and the cycling back to familiar lines, is a comfort. I love that you listen to their song; the birds actually remind me of my own children (3 of them, 5 and under) who are not affected by this crisis, and go on prancing about with their butterfly wings, singing…