in the mouth of the cave.
It is all jagged stumps
before her.
Vultures are perched
on the tops of the scrags
fixing her
with their beady eyes.
There are no nightingales
in her world.
It is all stark and bare,
and no soft notes sing.
But when Sister Wolf howls
in the deep dark
of a lonely midnight,
her heart rises in response
to her music.
Her head falls back.
From her throat comes a raw
and piercing cry.
She is keening;
for what is she keening?
What to do
with this feeling
of wanting beyond
brute survival?
She feels the prescience
of Something More
winging on the air,
but does not yet
have a name
for this longing.
One from 2010 to share with earthweal's open link. Bird Woman is getting faintly hopeful that maybe the US election will deliver us to more peaceful airwaves come 2021. We live in hope. I get teary listening to Obama speak - such an elegant man. I miss his intelligent leadership. Glad to hear him in Miami this afternoon.
Yup - no nightingales. I definitely empathize with that!
ReplyDeleteSomething More may make an appearance, I believe critters have a built in premonition of meeting "Something" with answers as well as humans.
ReplyDeleteNice write, Sherry, it fits in well with yout others of the wild.
Thank you for peeking in on me and for your nice comment..
..
Let’s hope that the world does not end up like that, Sherry, all beady-eyed vultures and no soft notes. It seems like that could be our future, but we can keep opening our throats, sharing our music and words, in the hope that Something More is there – and we don’t have to name it.
ReplyDeleteYour poem really builds in tension - the quest and journey to find the right word..to name it..say it and then fly free..i hope she finds it soon
ReplyDeleteWhat to do
ReplyDeletewith this feeling
of wanting beyond
brute survival? - just love this Sherry... ! So good!
It's time for Something More, something better, I hope. A plaintive song, raw with emotion, and very moving.
ReplyDeleteHi Sherry, that last comment was from me but somehow came up anonymous - Ingrid
ReplyDeleteYour poem went straight to my heart. Longing seems to be the reality our time. We long for peace, sanity and love - I think.
ReplyDeleteAh yes in these trying times with the casuality of covid staring us in the face. Our masked faces wish to scream for something beyond our present normal
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my sumue Sunday Sherry
Stay safe
Much💛love
Sounds as though I'm the lucky one, as Blogger gave me no problems today, as I took a little stroll around blogland :-)
ReplyDelete