Tag Archives: song

Song of Ecstasy

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

She is the sort that hears the song
the hills make after a heavy rain —
a humming sound one hears
first through the finger tips,
then the ears.

She’s the sort that dances with antelope at dusk,
playing in the field until dawn.

She’s the sort that makes the insect song —
not bell, nor click, but a rhythm in-between:

like the sound the silver pieces
sewn on her dress and leggings make,
a sound like wind and bell
as she makes her grand entry
in a circle around the village —

head held high,
her hair flowing behind her,

tasting the song of pure ecstasy
like honey on the tongue.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry, Uncategorized

The Composer

by Thomas Davis

An Italian, or Petrarchan, Sonnet

He searched a year to find the cedar tree,
Determined that he’d find a lofty lord
That towered dark and gleaming like a sword
Thrust upward with a shaggy filigree
Of branches singing winds into a sea
Of sky where hawks and eagles soared
And wings stitched sky to land, a linking poured
Into the heartbeat of his fantasy.

He dreamed the tree into the song he sang,
Then fingered ancient rosewood cello strings
Into the filigree of cedar wind
That bowed as cries of distant eagles rang
Into the sky and wove tree, song, and wings
Into a music that will never end.


Filed under poems, Poetry, Thomas Davis

Song of Trees

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

inspired by Kahlil Gibran

I am the soul of the earth.
I reach beyond the grasses ears
and speak softly into the clouds
binding the earth to sky.
I am, then, the earth’s message to the sky.

I am the wind’s love,
and he is my lover.
He comes to me in many ways,
exciting my body and heart.
I answer him with my movements.
He makes me strong,
and in return I am his song.
Through me he is only heard.

I thirst for the ideas of flowers
and voice their beauty to the stars.
In return they water my sides.
I am the soul of the earth.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry

A Mouse

a children’s poem by Thomas Davis

There was a little mouse that I knew
Who was singing to the big blue sky.
“Say little mouse,” I yelled at him there.
“What do you see? A blue sky pie?”

“No,” said the mouse as he sang his song.
“I only see a cloud and the blue,blue air,
But the cloud is as white as the winter snow,
And a sky so blue is rare.”


Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis

A Snow White Song

a children’s poem by Thomas Davis

Softly whisper to the snow
As the snow whispers down from the sky
And cover yourself with a blanket of song
As the snow comes down to lie

Upon the ground, to cover the ground
With a blanket white and cold.
Softly sing your snow white snow
And sleep with the sleep of the snow.


Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis

Listening For the Song

I have gone
to the four corners canyon
to listen
for the song,

but it is silent,
except for the wind whooshing
through junipers.

Last night
great storm clouds gathered
in the south.

This morning, before light,
I woke to chanting—
A woman’s voice
below my window.

Note: Written after a long period of writer’s block.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry