"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible,

to speak a few reasonable words." Goethe

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Taking Wing

Starlings in Winter
Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly
they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,
dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,
then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can’t imagine
how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,
this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard.  I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbably beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.
                                                                 ~ Mary Oliver
Isaiah 40:31 - “But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar on wings like eagles . . .”
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Nota Bene:       It’s interesting how poetry works by compression— the careful diction, the nuance of the well chosen word that has multiple layers of meaning . . . the one word that if thoughtfully listened to has clues to so much more that is going on inside the persona of the poem.  For example, notice in the next to last verse . . . 
“I feel my boots trying to leave the ground.”  Why boots?  Why not simply “feet” or even “shoes”?  But “boots” connote something heavy and cumbersome, something that is weighing the person down, something totally incongruous with taking flight, with lightness of spirit.  But there is hope that with the rising of the person’s spirit, the heavy boots will be shaken off, and he or she will rise above whatever circumstances are keeping them earthbound.
Are there other words in the poem that can yield multiple layers of meaning within the context of the poem?   Any thoughts on that?

6 comments:

DavidAndPatty Wells said...

I read the poem out loud. It was a soaring experience! I actually enjoyed it. I don't know about words with multiple meanings, but words/phrases I liked were:
spring, acrobats, theater of air, leafless winter, ashy city, improbably beautiful.

And, yes, I can identify with the closing sentiment.

Pilgrim said...

Hey Patty,

I'm glad you enjoyed reading the poem aloud, which is of course the way the music of poetry is meant to be heard. *smile*

I have had my students list their favorite words and phrases in a poem or even a short piece of prose, and then made them write their own poems using their list of culled words and images. They always surprised with how creative they could be.

Look at your list . . . forget the birds in the original poem and her theme.

If you "meditate" on your list, what comes to mind? How can you rearrange them, what can you add to them to create whatever new idea about them that you came up with?

Wanna try it? Aw, c'mon . . . take the risk!

Two short stanzas . . . eight lines . . .

Anonymous said...

I liked the stanza about the leafless winter. So many relatives have been cremated that to me, ashy city is living amidst reminders of death, living in grief.

Maybe that's too obvious, but I probably wouldn't have taken the time to think about it, if you hadn't encouraged the thoughts on the multiple layers of meaning.

Thanks :)

DavidAndPatty Wells said...

Okay, Ardoth... how about this?

Butterflies in Spring

The leafless winter turns green,
The ashy city now clean,
The improbably beautiful is seen
In the theater of the air.

Inside their cocoons no more,
Fluttering acrobats soar.
Flitting from door to door,
"It's Spring!" they do declare.

Pilgrim said...

Anonymous,

I'm glad you felt encouraged to dig a little deeper into the poem by reflecting on the possibility of multiple layers of meaning for words or images.

Meditative reflection like this can be applied in many ways and increase the richness of anything we are experiencing, but like any other skill, it increases with practice.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

Pilgrim said...



Patty,


I'm so happy you wrote your poem!

I really like it, and hope you enjoyed the process of working with the words and images you chose. It's interesting that the verb "spring" from Oliver's first stanza morphed into the season of Spring for you, and her birds became your butterflies. Even more interesting is the subtle of theme of resurrection— "inside their cocoons no more" they are rising to flit and flutter with new life. And you chose to use the "improbably beautiful" phrase to describe this change . . . yes, it is improbable to the point of miracle that such a beautiful creature can come forth from what surely looks like death to the worm before he begins to spin the cocoon around himself.

Your poem is "light and frolicsome" just as Oliver desired to be in her last stanza. And I really enjoyed your rhyme scheme and the music of your poem's rhythm.

Did you read your poem aloud to yourself so that you could hear it too?

Thanks for taking the risk!