Herring in the bay
At two a.m., hooty-owl calls from Centennial Park,
eerie in the fog; Mr. Bear pounds in frustration
on the garbage can lid. He can smell salmon skin
and he hasn't had a square meal in a while.
The lonely husky, confined to a porch across the street
sends his mournful howl
over the fence which blocks his view.
over the fence which blocks his view.
Up the inlet, from the floathouse, she hears
a family of wolves on the shore. The babies
thrust their small noses up and howl their first howls.
She shivers with delight. Hummers perch
on the tie-line; River Otter loudly crunches
his crab dinner just under the deck.
Two porpoises pass her kayak at dawn, on water
as calm as glass. She watches, not breathing,
as an eagle passes slowly above a family
of baby ducks. Their number decreases
by the day.
by the day.
A million small, important lives
go on living, everywhere.
Tide pools harbour
small pockets of life along the rocky cliffs.
go on living, everywhere.
Tide pools harbour
small pockets of life along the rocky cliffs.
Mussels click in the thousands
on rounded stoney slopes.
Oysters grow incrementally in the farm
across the way.
across the way.
Herring dimple the water's surface
atop the rounded bay.
So much life is throbbing all around us.
The beautiful wild world sings.
Their message is clear
The beautiful wild world sings.
Their message is clear
to we who are listening:
To Life! they cry, and carry on
To Life! they cry, and carry on
living, as our disconnected, entitled,
noisy species makes of our survival
a dismal thing.
May we learn from earth's creatures
May we learn from earth's creatures
a wilder, truer and
far more worthy
song to sing.
far more worthy
song to sing.
for earthweal: An Ear for Wild Language
The first stanza is what I hear in town. The "she" is my friend who lives in a floathouse a 40 minute boat ride up the inlet. She leads a charmed life among all the wild critters. She hears their voices all around her, all the time. They sing the song of life.
One has to be shut deep inside a lair of self-important noise to fail to hear the wild music. But that's modern consciousness, or the one we've failed our way into. Attunement is slow and deliberate; most poems focus on a single wild element (pine trees, say) with the same self-zealousness and hear little else. This poem is for the wild choir and weaves itself like an attention surrendered to what's there. Magic and wild, friend.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful to live surrounded by the many wild critters. Seems like a peaceful life. I would love to hear all of those animal sounds. So much life around us, and so much of it we don't even see. I hope Mr. Bear finds something to eat!
ReplyDeleteThe wild world wants to live, and we are so deliberately blind to all of it...except for the few of us now watching with tears in our eyes and a vast sense of hopelessness..but I take comfort in the thought that it isn't all up to us. Life itself finds her own way, and the singing here empowers it.
ReplyDelete"A million small, important lives
ReplyDeletego on living, everywhere." Yes, Theirs is the song to listen to!
We are so noisy! but the world is filled with layers of other sounds if I stop and still myself. You've captured one of those moments.
ReplyDeleteWow. You capture a wilderness I've only seen in film. How breathtaking it must be to be part of it. I felt transported there by your poem. I hope such wild places flourish somehow in the future. Suzanne - Mapping Uncertainty
ReplyDeleteAmen to listening to this song of life, Sherry! I hear it too, and it bewilders me how so many can be blind to it. How Biden can court Saudi Oil instead of desperately looking for a way to keep the remaining oil reserves in the ground...I grow frustrated!
ReplyDelete