“I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.”
Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Dirge Without Music”



Rite of Passage

I came upon it not knowing it was there,
As though it knew and was waiting for me,
Believing I was someone who would hear
Its last wish, its prayer unutterable
In language and voiced only in song.

I knew that its black eyes still saw me
And took me into its life and its death,
Both more precious to it than my own;
How the air caged it in now and how
It asked to be set free beneath the field.

I have heard my refusal again and again
And though I have never returned, I see
So clearly the white bones like stones
Marking the place of its passage, not into
The silence of ground but the risen voice

Of the one who is now singing over it.




Poetry by countryfog
Read 565 times
Written on 2010-11-29 at 11:25

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Ferenc Inigo Beck
This is as a personal memorial,ever calling across time.(bittersweet)
2010-12-02


John Ashleigh
Your poetry - countryfog - is so unique, and sparkles with brilliance. I love reading them.

Regards,
John.
2010-11-29


shells
I too thought of a bird, all in all a thought provoking write and your final two lines sang to me of hope.
2010-11-29


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
This brings sadness to me in an unformed amorphous way.

My imagination sees a small dead song bird

Very well written. Very evocative.

Thanks

Joe
2010-11-29