The Season of Migration (I.P.)

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Fri, 11 Apr 2014
  • 1469 reads
6 comments
 
Dusk fast falling,
and I contemplate the day; 
how I’d seen the first swallow
of the season, and how I hope
they return to their nest in the barn 
again this year.
 
Cinereous – grow the trees
and in the half-light – think about
the thousands of miles these creatures
travel in their annual migration,
and it bothers me that she, no longer 
witnesses this thing...
 
watching them gather 
in their twittering masses
on the power lines – seeing them
dip and dive – drinking from the pond 
and bagging the flies.
 
But maybe, the spirit has no need
for mundane pleasures such as these...
replete, perhaps, in itself; as hard
to imagine as to grasp I’ll never
see her again, 
 
but the swallows
know nothing of this...their instinct
driving them on, as sure as the tug of the moon
on the tide, they will survive, and little
would they care, of such a small,
ceasing to be.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual
Nature
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

You are very quick off the mark with the IP this week, Tina. At present, nothing is ruminating there with me.
Lovely descriptions again of the movement and wanderings of the swallows.
We can watch them with enjoyment, but they cannot understand our griefs and passing?
Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

You pose an interesting counter-argument, Rhiannon.  And who knows?  Maybe the the greatest question of all. 

As ever, my thanks to you for your inspirational thinking.

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I think the wonderful part about migration is the eagerness with which the birds fly...like it's so imperative they reach their destination.

I always like to think that when we die,  our spirit leaves the body and flies free with the birds and able to experience for the first time what they see.

It was such a pleasure to read your work again Tina,  I have missed it so much.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you for your inspiring words, Jenny.  More than appreciated.

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

There's a contrast in the lightness of the writing and the weight of the pondering which works really well in bringing home that feeling that no matter what, life goes on, but seeing it happen always brings us back to the same point when there is such loss. I really like your poem, Tina. 

Enjoy your swallows. That's another amazing photo!

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, so much, Bee, and yes...isn't the photo amazing.  Some years, especially when they are all gathering to fly back, the power-lines are heavy with them.  It is extremely atmospheric.  Unfortunately, the last couple of years, there haven't been that many swallows in my area.  They used to nest in my old barn but I have a family of naughty squirrels living in there at the moment, and I think maybe that's putting them off. 

So pleased you enjoyed.

Tina