MURMURATION
by Linda France
(more…)1
*
Because we love watching the flock’s precision glide
upstroke for height, tilt of wing spun mid-flight
just for a moment
we’re in the frenzied swirling rushhome for the winged
owls hoot their love through the dark
chiffchaff creeps up stalks
fennel and flow
dipper and wagtail
Arctic terns like darts
geese honking each note weighed
a duck sits on top of the bowling club out king of the worldif you love the bird, don’t cage it
we’ll miss the starlings when April comes
*
on any high hilltop, breathing this air,
this precious air, remember those who lost their breathif you love the flower, don’t pick it
a sudden sweep of daisies in a green field
like counting stars
losing count
starting over againmore shades of green
than words scream Life!life, damp grass between bare toes
light passing through poppy petals
the slow unfolding of a rosehome for the prickly, those that slither
climb or crawl
for us allatom by atom
cell by cell
what else matterswe cherish these conversations when the vetchling speaks
the lavish eruption of nasturtiums, weaving ropes of white stems
orange flowers
lush leaves
hearts burnt openif you love wild things, let them be
*
follow the almost invisible path through the heather
summer’s easy grin, the slow smile of autumn
gaze of winter starlightisn’t this how we learn not to fear
change
the seasons
that mark time
shape our livesspangles of sunlight on a river
otters ripplingthe sting of cold sea on tight, red skin
we feel it all, drink it in and love it
love honey, love bees
the smell of dust, hot rain
a damson tree
dripping purple fruitslove the kiss of a dandelion clock
wind-suck and time disappears
the pull of the moon
waves that crash with forgotten history
the rubbed edges of the world
a spider crab scurrying sidewayswe love the roaring isles
the taste of a peachour neighbours busy in their vegetable patch
the daylit gatetunnel of trees
those little paths one-person-wide
between hazel and ash
warm barkin the city that birthed us
bright tufts that grow in the cracks*
because we love the way dawn wakes up
and switches night to daythe twist and fall
the surging sweeping joy of it all
the visceral thrillhow dusk strips away the waste of worried days
as birds yield to their roost
and leave the night to moth and bat
beyond day, beyond everythingwe know we too are rock and star
but now on the tip of our tongue
even love’s not enough
2
*
At the midnight of the year
utter darkness
a million compasses fail
and the starlings don’t come
empty sky
no swallows, no swifts
no summer nests in the eaves
threads looped in the blue
a blackbird that isn’t there
opens his throat
into silence, thin air
no golden noteyou wake to a dawn
unheralded
dusk, uninvited, doesn’t know
where to begin
ghost calls echo in the trees
dogs and deer stop barking
rain forgets to fall
its rhythm broken, lost
oak and elm hold their breath
you will never see another flower
the stars’ last vanishing act
no words left3
*
April high tide
hurls driftwood
oarweed
sea-glass
a wreckage of shellstomorrow comes soon
how much would you pay to hear the sound
of rain
or birdsongwhat if couldn’t-care-less cared more
and we let the murmur of change
change our wayshear the roots of trees
whispering
dark soil’s cavernous memories
tectonic plates shiftsit like a mountain
all weathers
in our heartswhat if our flutterings become feathers
the starlings lend us their wingstill we trust enough
to fly together
synchronised one vast voice
all different, all the same
to mend our wounded earthballads of continents crossed
comrades lost to storm or predator
the shockwave moving through the flocksee how we flit
twist swell
dive
co-mingle co-exist co-inherebelong together
*
imagine we’re made of those slivers of sky
know all the colours of lighthitch a ride on the bees’ flight
go to earth with badgers
small as Alice catch the worm
the keys of the ash
rise like a dandelion
the promise of a peony budwhere heather meets heaven
homethis is the patience of the albatross
a cormorant’s hunger
craning for a flash of silver
beneath the waterthe good omen of a crescent moon
milky stars
set in new stories
meadow orchids
skeins of geesea chance to constellate honesty
justice
escape heroic fantasies
gravity’s bootsso what if’s rubbed out
and becomes what isthe path between
then we can hear the hiss of rain
*
what is
is more than the ear can hear
or eye see —we will never have this time again
can never rewind this momentall the maybes, all the small things
we touch
gentle, curious
and let passlike fruit in season
the secret language of earth
underland of coal, uranium, oilindifference banished by love
power to the parliament of rooks
it’s just this us
the people
our footsteps
walking into all this wonder
every day through every weathersolidarity
the planet’s ragemaking a stand
for a different futureit’s just this
our words
building this home we share
these bridgesnowhere else to go
here we are
turning over
this tainted pageto start again
and healing the earth
the earth heals usour better place
not a destination
a methodcommon ground
*
ask
what if words could fly
and this poem rose into the blueness
a whirr of black italic wingsbreath by breath
a prayer
to give life back to life
all of us
pieces of the worldwhat if all the time we were searching
the sky
the birds
were watching for uswhat, if not cartwheeling
what, if not care
what, if not a cadence
like love
held lightly
Imagine Yourselves
תתארו לכם עולם יפה
פחות עצוב ממה שהוא ככה
ואנחנו שם הולכים עם שמש בכיסים
ומעל גגות, הכוכבים
והזמן עובר בלי פחד
ואני הולך לפגוש אותה בגן העדןתתארו לכם קצת אושר
כי הוא כל כך כל כך נדיר כאן
עיר מגניבה בתוך החושך ושנינו בשמיכה
והיא מלטפת אותי ואומרת לי
מחר יקרה מה שרצית
והיא מלאה השתקפויות של עצב ושמחהתתארו לכם באמצע יום יפה
שמיים מעליכם, האהבה איתכם
כן, ככה זה קרה, לפתע היא אמרה
אני עוד זוכר אותה, כמו בסערה
תתארו לכם אותי נופל לתוך זרועותיהתתארו לכם עולם פשוט, חדר ללילה, בית בגשם
ריחות עצים מלאים בתות, ושנינו שיכורים
“אם נפרד אני אמות”, היא לוחשת וגועשת
תתארו לכם עוד הזדמנות לחזור פתאום לנעוריםתתארו לכם את החיים, זזים אחורה וקדימה
מה שחסר שוב מיתמלא, מה שהיה פתאום ישנו
ואני מביט לתוך עיניה ונגנב בכוח פנימה
תתארו לכם אותנו מגשימים את כל החלומותתתארו לכם באמצע יום יפה…
תתארו לכם עולם יפה, פחות עצוב ממה שהוא ככה
ואנחנו שם הולכים, עם שמש בכיסים
(תתארו לכם עולם יפה, עיר בתוך החושך)
עולם פשוט, תתארו לכם קצת אושרמתוך האלבום שפויים
Imagine a beautiful world
less sad than what it is
and we walk in it
with suns in our pockets
and above the roof tops, stars
and time passes by without fear
and I’m going to meet her
in heaven
Imagine a little happiness
because it is so rare here
A cool city within the darkness
and both of us
inside the blankets
and she caresses me
and tells me
tomorrow what we wanted
will happen
and she’s full of sad
and happy reflections
Imagine to yourselves
in the middle
of a beautiful day
the sky above you
love is with you
yes,
that’s how it happened
and that’s what
she suddenly said
I still remember her
just like in the storm
imagine me falling
into her arms
Imagine a simple world
a room for a night
a home in the rain
the smell of trees
full of strawberries
and we’re both drunk
“If we’ll be separated I’ll die”
she whispers and storms
imagine having a chance
to go back to youth
Imagine to yourselves
in the middle
of a beautiful day
the sky above you
love is with you
yes,
that’s how it happened
and that’s what
she suddenly said
I still remember her
just like in the storm
imagine me falling
into her arms
Imagine a beatiful world
less sad than what it is
and we walk in it
with suns in our pockets
imagine a beautiful world
A city in the darkness
a simple world
imagine a little happiness
Mister and Lady Day
Billie Holiday and the Dog Who Loved Her
By Amy Novesky
Illustrated by Vanessa Brantley Newton
BOOK DAY: The music of words
Happy International Children’s Book Day 2021!
When we read, our minds grow wings.
When we write, our fingers sing.Words are drumbeats and flutes on the page,
soaring songbirds and trumpeting elephants,
rivers that flow, waterfalls tumbling,
butterflies that twirl
high in the sky!Words invite us to dance—rhythms, rhymes, heartbeats,
hoofbeats, and wingbeats, old tales and new ones,
fantasies and true ones.Whether you are cozy at home
or racing across borders toward a new land
and a strange language, stories and poems
belong to you.When we share words, our voices
become the music of the future,
peace, joy and friendship,
a melody
of hope.
Avril
Atchoum Atchoum Atchoum
Le mois d’avril est enrhumé
Il a besoin de se moucher
Chut, ne fais pas tant de bruit,
dit la petite souris
sinon tu vas faire peur
à la première fleur.
The Day the Crayons Quit
by Drew Daywalt
illustrated by Oliver Jeffers
From being misplaced in between couch cushions, to coloring Santa’s magical coat, a crayon’s job is anything but easy! A little boy named Duncan has the most colorful companions who have countless adventures you can only believe by hearing their stories.
THE BOY WHO LOVED MATH
Happy Birthday, Paul Erdős!
The Improbable Life of Paul Erdos
by Deborah Heiligman, illustrated by LeUyen Pham
Most people think of mathematicians as solitary, working away in isolation. And, it’s true, many of them do. But Paul Erdos never followed the usual path. At the age of four, he could ask you when you were born and then calculate the number of seconds you had been alive in his head. But he didn’t learn to butter his own bread until he turned twenty. Instead, he traveled around the world, from one mathematician to the next, collaborating on an astonishing number of publications.
(more…)