Staying Power #143: "The Secret of Birds"
An original poem from a poor sleeper
THE SECRET OF BIRDS Phyllis Cole-Dai Outside the window, an hour before dawn, when night weighs heaviest on the neck of the world, one bird with pluck begins to sing I’m here I’m here I’m here A robin— a bluebird— a blackbird— a dove— some feathered throat, perched high to be heard, piping a solo to stir up the rest— the pigeons, the crows, the warblers, the wrens— Every bird, by and by, will add to the mix, down to the most timid sparrow and finch. Perfect riot of sound! Wild rapturous din! We’re here We’re here We’re here
This is the practice of birds in morning: to put the last inch of dark to good use, hoisting the sun with their noisy chorus, trilling and tweeting and chirping and cooing— This is no time for silence. Who can tell us the secret of birds? How they waken so early, day after day, to breathe the cold night into themselves and give it back to the world as song, as light?
Want to listen to a dawn chorus? Click here.
The Gentle Nudge
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My feathered companions cheer me every morning! The reminder to sing the sun into existence and just the joy of them and their song. Thank you for sharing your poem and letting us share in the glory of it!
Oh my goodness, I LOVE every bit of this, love the idea of birdsong “hoisting the sun.” I am often entertained or annoyed by the bachelor mockingbirds singing through the night (give it up, dude…she’s sleeping). Mmm, but those early chirpers are so dear. And I am enchanted with the final lines:
“to breathe the cold night into themselves
and give it back to the world as song, as light”
Ha! Just now a cardinal began adding its exclamation points! She agrees with me!