The more I stood and listened, the more I heard.
A zephyr of song became a gale, a storm, a hurricane.
There were no people, just the birds
and their escalating chorale,
filling the space around me,
growing closer, thicker,
pressing me thinner and smaller
until I was no longer standing there
but bodiless, floating, in the warming air
as a thousand feathered chests threw out their primal call
and reclaimed as theirs
the brightening sky,
the waking trees,
Tonight is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets and Lisa is inviting us to post any poem of our choosing. See the link at: https://dversepoets.com/2021/05/27/dverse-open-link-night-293/
‘Birdsong’ was written a couple of years ago. I was reminded of this poem earlier this week when I was aware of how vocal the birds are in our garden at the moment. When I wrote the poem I had been outside in the early morning when I felt almost physically lifted by the sheer scale of birdsong which surrounded me.