What wonder in a flock of tweeting
twittering Birds overhead —
I heard Them coming before I saw Them —
They began to break up above Me
as I eagerly watched to see Them form Letters
of The Alphabet —
Letters maybe to divine a message
but how could I expect Those Birds —
that Body of Bird Life —
to know My Language?
These Are The Neighbourhood Sounds
Which Drive Me Off My Deck:
Lawnmowers
Weed Eaters
Auto Body Grinders
Skill Saws
Chain Saws
Various Hammerings
Is That Enough?
–
These Are The Sounds That Keep Me:
The Waves
The Surf
The Fog Horns
The Peepers
The Wind in The Leafy Hedge
The Birds — Jays, Crows, Gulls, Willets,
Mourning Doves, Robins, Grackles, Starlings, Warblers, Chickadees
Isn’t That Enough?
–
What do The Gulls think
when They eat a food They’ve never had —
like Spanish Rice and Sausage —
What do The Crows think?
I spy a stalwart Robin
perched on My Neighbour’s Laundry Pole
–
I watch awhile
until She flies
down to the grass
& there goes My Poem
–
Oh My God — She’s Back!
–
I forgot The Fog–
The Fog is wafting past Her
The Hedge is rustling below Her–
–
Oh, There She Goes–
“I Heard A Bird Fly,”
declared an astonished visitor
to My Mother’s Island House
when I was eleven years old.
–
July 23rd 2012
I Live In The Land of Spirituality–
if I lie in My Bed
on the verge of depression
I am in Error
for I am eternally, rightfully happy
on My Deck or Portico
with Hunter and Eliza and The Cats
and The Birds.
The Jays of Valley Cottage
mix with The Crows of Nova Scotia
I could hear Them
before writing
but now that My Book is out
open on My Lap
I hear the swooshing of The Hedge
& guess The Next Bird To Be–
–I have no guess–
–I’m waiting to hear–
a car pulls into a driveway
a neighbour tinkers in His Shed
so I move to The South of The House
–to The Portico–
where Those Waves are a woosh
with Gulls more audible
& now too, a Jay
How incongruous that I should hear
The Jays of Valley Cottage
Here on Cape Sable Island
where I am so far removed
from My Growing Up–
or aren’t I still growing?
Here I feel I Have Arrived–
My Destiny has been laid out
on My Grandmother’s Silver Tray
on display atop
My Mother’s Mahogany Drop-leaf Table
Here in My Hawk Living Room
Oh It was a shock alright —
twenty years after My Mother’s Brain Tumour
and have I recovered?
I think so, at least the waves
are telling Me so, and The Cats, Crows
Willets & Gulls. The Sky tells Me so.
–
I hear a Willet now, over
the Southern End of The Hawk —
I am very happy Here
where nothing can get Me.
The Call of The Jay
is of My Childhood
but Here It Comes
with A View of The Atlantic
–
I have angled My Chair
to fit This Ocean:
a solid blue swath
merging with spruce
punctuated with birds
& topped by cumulus cloud
Joanna Gilman Hyde 