avatarDarren Richardson

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1992

Abstract

-world-48f234038afd"> <div> <div> <h2>Dream Poem for the Waking World</h2> <div><h3>‘Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.’ - Carl Jung</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*MprYHlfw6gZEXyjSEnyiFQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="4023" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/gumbys-staircase-7124bae89cd9"> <div> <div> <h2>Gumby’s Staircase</h2> <div><h3>Childhood toys can come alive, if only in our minds</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*XpQqF2suiWqOEBnvMvA4hg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="6be2" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/after-twilight-274a1852fd2b"> <div> <div> <h2>After Twilight</h2> <div><h3>As night draws near, the light burns brighter still in our hearts</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*QAro8F-mcYUHfn23qIGbyQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="d591" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/young-sunshine-a80b0c742fec"> <div> <div> <h2>Young Sunshine</h2> <div><h3>Short poems and soothing pictures from the natural world</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div>

Options

</div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*hXpYFqQuQTZuMozvcZvWHw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="400f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/sunset-with-the-grateful-dead-1993-a87f8e6c3031"> <div> <div> <h2>Sunset With the Grateful Dead, 1993</h2> <div><h3>“There is a road, no simple highway …”</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*MVQaLqZqWz5-XRlcCm_HWg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="d357" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/parting-bc00e67fa34b"> <div> <div> <h2>Parting</h2> <div><h3>Poetic reflections on saying goodbye</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*7Erszt-o2TFLQTe2ZD3jjA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="94b6" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/who-we-are-and-who-is-the-answer-to-why-d843c216551e"> <div> <div> <h2>Who We Are and Who Is the Answer to Why</h2> <div><h3>A poem celebrating separate mysteries and unifying oneness</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*LmXz77wWubfuk0h6DusQbQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

The Julie-Birds

Wordlessly chirping, birds seem to know the purpose of poetry

Photo by Sreenivas on Unsplash

Listen to the Julie-birds greet morning. I call them Julie-birds because it always makes her smile to hear me say it. The name ornithologists give them is a name for another day.

At sunrise, moved to song in branches that brush our window, they are happy to be Julie-birds, aroused in hidden perches in trees content to be their daybreak homes, strong summer limbs green with music and life.

“Chirpy-chirpy-tweet-tweet.” “Chirpy-chirpy-tweet-tweet.”

The Julie-birds know poetry’s purpose. The Julie-birds know what hides inside the soulfulness of song. The Julie-birds float mellifluous calls branch to branch, darkness to light — as dawn gives way to what the day will bring, the Julie-birds sing freely in the key of joy.

It must be joy that helps earthbound humans rediscover the language of wings through sound vibrations and tender imaginations, spirited translations from whistles and warbles that make us laugh, and then make love again, flush with passion, our stories entwined with winged creatures we hear but do not see, not at this fine hour, this almost frozen moment, sanctified by the Mystery’s numinous caress and all the tangible sensations of yet another transient awakening.

More poetry by this writer:

Poetry
Embodiment
Transcendence
Connection
Birds
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