№ 521. Gratefulness: Bird Songs

 

A friend asked me about what I'm grateful for. I think the question is like a chain letter that's being passed around and made more current for the pandemic.

Why not? Finding something to be grateful for in 2020 is a useful exercise of mindfulness. It helps keep the black dogs at bay.

Here it is.  

Every morning, I'm grateful for the bird songs that wake me up, without fail, at 5 am. Thanks to the micro-forest behind our house, we have lots of singing visitors all day.

I send her this clip. I couldn't find a good clip of Philippine bird songs, without the background music. This will do for now.

 

№ 388. In Media Res

Poppies
Mary Oliver

The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn’t a place
in this world that doesn’t

sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage

shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,

when it’s done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold,
I am washed and washed
in the river
of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—
what can you do
about it—
deep, blue night?

№ 329. Nothing Gold Can Stay

Robert Frost, 1874 - 1963

Nature’s first green is gold, 

Her hardest hue to hold. 

Her early leaf’s a flower; 

But only so an hour. 

Then leaf subsides to leaf. 

So Eden sank to grief, 

So dawn goes down to day. 

Nothing gold can stay.