You heard—the song the moth sings, the babble
Of falling snowflakes (in a language
No school has taught you), the scream
Of the reddening bud of the oak tree
As the bud burst into the world’s brightness.
~ Robert Penn Warren, from “Muted Music,” The Collected Poems of Robert Penn Warren
Notes:
- Photo: Suzanne Mrozak with Quercus Alba (White Oak) taken on April 8, 2017
- Poem: Memory’s Landscape
I watch and listen with awe…and gratitude, for their return always amazes me
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Me too. Sat in backyard on Sunday. Birds, squirrels, buds, shoots, breeze, all alive….
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Me three! Was listening to the peepers sing their chorus last night and have been serenaded by an owl for the last half hour this morning. Mother Earth is trembling in anticipation….
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Owl, how cool is that! Love that “Mother Earth is trembling in anticipation” LOVE THAT!
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and yet, you understand it all.
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Yes. And better appreciate it now.
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Wow…
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Yes, I thought so too!
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There’s so much energy bursting out … but I never thought of screaming buds. It’s a bit disconcerting – and a memorable piece!
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“a bit disconcerting”. Laughing.
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This was perfect on so many levels. Thanks for sharing.
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So glad you liked it Claudia. It impacted me similarly.
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Don’t know how I missed this. I just love it. Thanks, David.
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Thanks Roseanne. Me too…
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