The Rain-Callers

Summary

"The Rain-Callers" is a reflective poem that personifies magpies as beings capable of summoning rain with their song, drawing parallels between the natural phenomenon and the poet's emotional landscape.

Abstract

"The Rain-Callers" is a poignant poem by Melissa Coffey that captures the essence of a gray day on the verge of rain through the lens of a window. The poem describes the anticipation of rain as a sensory experience, with the world seeming to soften and the sounds of traffic and voices muted. The magpies, with their distinct three-note call, are portrayed as the instigators of rain, their song a catalyst for both the weather and the poet's inner emotions. The birds' calls evoke a sense of melancholy and longing, as well as a deep connection to the natural world. As the magpies continue their ritual, the air darkens, and the poet feels a sympathetic resonance with the environment, suggesting that the magpies' song not only calls forth rain but also stirs the poet's own emotions. The poem concludes with the magpies' task complete, their song shifting to one of contentment as they disperse, leaving the poet in a moment of tranquility, having witnessed the miraculous communion between the birds and the clouds.

Opinions

The poem suggests that the magpies' song has a mystical influence on the weather, implying they possess an innate ability to sense and invoke rain.
The author draws a parallel between the natural world and human emotions, with the approaching rain symbolizing an impending release of pent-up feelings.
There is a reverence for the magpies' role in the ecosystem, as well as a sense of wonder at their perceived power to summon rain.
The poet implies a spiritual connection with the magpies, as their call elicits an emotional response and a sense of shared experience in the act of calling forth rain.
The poem conveys a sense of gratitude and humility towards nature, acknowledging the magpies' ritual as a small yet significant miracle.

A poem written through a window

View from my balcony and windows — Image by Author

There comes that softness to a gray day, when clouds well with tears, like a woman not quite crying; the air takes on texture, muting the traverse of traffic, voices passing

hands in the sink, I raise my head, sensing rain’s cool approach, yet realise, seconds before, I have heard them already

outside my window, gathered in the graceful wattle, they call; three notes, cold and clear descending, then ascending, like the plash of rain on parched earth or pavement

listen; that subtle melancholic lilt, downwards upon the final note, as if the tremor of thirst in the throat cracks it in half

they call again, heads lifted skyward, in ritual communion with the clouds; it seems the air darkens in response

are their beaks arcane barometers, sensing shifts in temperature middle ears, fine-tuned as tines, registering the pitch of humidity the timbre of clouds

does their songburst cause cloudburst, just as it draws the rain from my eyes and an ache of joy, winging free from this cramped cage of rib-bones

again the magpies call, their trinity of notes, a prayer releasing miracles; rain from a finally-yielding heaven I drink in the scent of moistened air dishes done, at least, for now

tea in hand, I hear how their song shifts to coos, keening contentment; watch for the monochrome flash and flap of feathers, amidst the gray-green of leaves

they are rising in a tiding; their task, too, complete; lifting into watery skies, perhaps summoned by distant dry winds, waterless places

forever singing down the rain

Poet’s note: the collective noun for magpies is “tiding”.

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