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
Me too. Sat in backyard on Sunday. Birds, squirrels, buds, shoots, breeze, all alive….
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….
Owl, how cool is that! Love that “Mother Earth is trembling in anticipation” LOVE THAT!
and yet, you understand it all.
Yes. And better appreciate it now.
Wow…
Yes, I thought so too!
There’s so much energy bursting out … but I never thought of screaming buds. It’s a bit disconcerting – and a memorable piece!
“a bit disconcerting”. Laughing.
This was perfect on so many levels. Thanks for sharing.
So glad you liked it Claudia. It impacted me similarly.
Don’t know how I missed this. I just love it. Thanks, David.
Thanks Roseanne. Me too…