…
Watch these old bones moan
and creak; watch the moon
wreak havoc on this scarred sky.
Watch the birds never worry.
Watch the scurry of feet. The beat
of heart. Start somewhere. Hold never
on your tired tongue. Speak now.
Forever hold. Let go.
..
As usual, I can’t resist the Q over at dVerse.
Your poem made me wonder how much birds do worry. I liked the moon wrecking havoc on the sky.
I love this De, and whilst I am not a religious man, it brought to mind a passage from the New Testament that has stuck with me since my school days.
“Consider the ravens, that they sow not, neither reap; which have no store-chamber nor barn; and God feedeth them: of how much more value are ye than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a cubit unto the measure of his life? If then ye are not able to do even that which is least, why are ye anxious concerning the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin; yet I say unto you, Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”
Bingo, Paul. 🙂
Lol. Bible Bingo. It could catch on 😉 Hope life is a little less stretched for you De.
It’s getting there. Thank you, Sir.
It would be terrible if they did worry, I can’t imagine what worrying quails and worrying pheasants would look like. I think the robin and wood pigeons are just hopeful – that you will remember to feed them.
This brings such hope to old bones… love it
Appreciate the allusion of those birds 🙂
I want to follow those worry-free birds; it would be a stress free life 🙂 I specialy love this to do list: Start somewhere.
Start somewhere. …I like this theme of just letting go.
Forever hold and let go … an oxymoron and lifetime challenge!
I want to fly like a worried free bird – catching the updraft and opening my wings.
Ooh, I love this to-do list. ❤
Love this poem De…the birds that never worry, ‘start somewhere’, the contradictions of holding and letting go …
The repeated verbs are great in this – watch and creak, watch and wreak – and then the pace hurries up by the 3rd stanza. Then in the last – the hold, the let go. Poignant, sad but also fulfilled – the list complete. So good.
I love the title, De, and the poem: the moaning, creaking old bones, the scarred sky and the birds that never worry. The repetition of the word ‘watch’ has me alert and looking. And then the encouragement to start somewhere and never hold your tired tongue – a wise message to poets.
This is beautiful, De. I really love it.
Always admire that use of parenthetical — loving the title. The internal rhyme is wonderful here….I read it aloud twice and appreciate it even more. Love the last line…the opposites (seemingly) of forever holding and letting go. 🙂