The White Bird

by Thomas Davis

Rainwater falls…

Falls…

Into puddles,
Upon rain-shining stones.

Amidst the stones
A lone white bird
Sings of cherries, sweet and black,
and spring.

You sit upon a stone
In the rain listening…
Listening,
Hearing rainwater
And the bird mingling melodies.

Life is strange,
For the rain, the white bird,
you, and the songs
Form a beautiful image.

The rain…

Falling…

Falling.

15 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis

15 responses to “The White Bird

  1. This creates a delicate and moving image; fragile, ephemeral, yet resonant with balance, depth and power. A great piece of writing.

  2. I agree. Love the imagery here.

    Mark Blasini

  3. extrasimile

    Thomas, this is simply beautiful. Here’s Wallace Stevens:
    The palm stands on the edge of space.
    The wind moves slowly in the branches.
    The bird’s fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

    This is why poetry is so important to our being. Our breath. The sun shines and the moon moves. A special blessing we bring to the world.
    Jim

  4. this is lovely. soft and melodic. ~jane

  5. Anna Mark

    As I read this poem, I come in and out of the different sounds, the sound of the rain falling, and the sound of the white bird and their mingling melodies, but also my own breathing. Beautiful, Thomas. A while ago you stood in the “rain” of my poem, and now I stand in yours!

  6. Caddo Veil

    Mmmm–this makes me sigh, Thomas; a nice, restful, contented sigh. Beautiful work! God bless y’all–love Caddo

  7. Thomas, I could hear and see the rain, the white bird – the whole scene, as if I was there – what a beautiful, succinct poem! (And I would repeat what Ben said – delicate and moving….)

  8. I love this use of alliteration — Amidst the stones
    A lone

  9. I agree – these are lovely lines. Apart from the simple and beautiful visual picture they give us, there’s a musicality in the lines themselves. It’s interesting to see you moving into free verse again, Tom.
    Incidentally, both you and Ethel seem to have rain on the mind at present! So do we in England: we’ve had torrential flooding. However, my wife and I have just returned from a holiday in the Med where the sun was scorching!

    • Glad you got to go on vacation, John. Hope you had fun. Ethel and I are probably obsessed by rain at the moment. I wish you could send some of your torrents our way. Around here the land is burning (literally). Tens of thousands of acres are on fire all around us (though, thank God, not in the Zuni Mountains…yet), and hundreds of homes have burned. We have never seen temperatures so high for so long. Day after day after day. I’m afraid I’m not writing free verse right now. The epic is about the only writing I’m doing, other than at work. This is a love poem I wrote to Ethel when we both were young. I hope you are well, my friend.

  10. Beautiful. I love hearing a bird sing in the rain. Ellen

  11. SO delicate and lyrical, Thomas, quite beautiful. If I were to pick a favorite stanza, it would be this one:
    ‘The chaos of nature
    brings the mind
    to order—’

    But I am glad to have experience the whole of it.

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