Bluebirds in Late Winter
a poem
Hi all. I hope you are having a poetic day. I recently discovered an unfinished poem in my drafts of an email I hadn’t used in years. What is interesting, to me, is that it was begun before I learned that my mother loves bluebirds. She shared with me that seeing bluebirds is a very emotional and spiritual experience to her; like God is showing her that everything is going to be ok. I love this.
Perhaps you, too, have a symbolic experience like this with something that you see in nature? Something that stills your heart, centers you, and touches your spirit in a way that defies explanation? I hope that in nature you have these experiences and cherish them.
Another interesting thing about this poem is that the other bird mentioned is my favorite bird, Cedar Waxwings. At the time I began writing this, that collaboration was not intentional, but now it is very special to me.
As writers, it is sometimes difficult to adequately express how we feel about our loved ones. How could one ever show the depth of those emotions in their poetry? Well, we try. And with that, this poem is for my mother, a truly beautiful spirit in this world.
I hope that you will enjoy Bluebirds in Late Winter as much as I enjoyed re-discovering it, and polishing it up to completion. Please, do, share your thoughts with me on this meaningful poem.
Bluebirds in Late Winter
Surprising blue spirits descend transforming snow-covered fences. They search the snow for pieces of Spring to pull from sleepy ground. They carve spaces in the sky for her to enter.
Flashes of red tuck under as Waxwings alight, all stern and masked They pluck berries Shift and bounce and disperse, Leaving the bluebirds To sing of Spring.
February 2019 (Published https://fiddleheadsnfloss.com/2019/02/13/bluebirds-in-late-winter/ and also in the Observer News Enterprise newspaper