Birds on a wire
like thoughts coming together,
resting before flight–
the pause,
rhythm in a sentence
in the secret language of birds,
forming patterns in circles and lines,
gliding on wind currents,
soaring into the clouds–
and I watch, wondering
what it’s like to rise so high
without fear of falling?
Crows in flight at Red Bank Battlefield, July 2020
For dVerse,where Laura has asked us to write about flight. I’ve reworked some old poems. . . a work in progress perhaps.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
I wonder that, too…. This reminds me of when I first started sharing my poetry, especially online. I was extremely hesitant and feared “falling.”
Thanks so much. Yes, I get that. Me, as well. AND every time I submit anything, poetry, prose, assignments. . .
It would be nice…if I had a guarantee of not falling. Lovely poem and photos, Merril. My grandmother used to say when you saw birds on a wire, they were facing the direction of an upcoming storm. I don’t know if that’s true or a West Virginia tale!
Thank you, Jill. I don’t know–what if there’s no storm?
Lovely and I wonder what it would be like as well, Merril.
Thank you very much!
You’re welcome 🙂
I love the first two lines. It describes words mixing like the birds do, changing places and therefore meanings shift.
Thanks so much, Claudia. Yes, exactly.
I want to see life from their perspective and vantage point too. To understand their language is wonderful.
Thank you so much, Grace. Yes, it would be.
I love this so much. It explicates the secrecy in nature, the language we will never be able to understand between animals to each other; those cues.
I really adore the final two lines. I often wonder what it’s like to fly. Now figuratively, I also like the interpretation of what it would be like to not fear falling down, thus not provoking the fear of failure.
Excellent poem here. So many layers to pick from.
Thank you so much for your lovely comment, Lucy!
I’m really kind of fascinated by bird languages–they have dialects and other birds can understand each other. And I love watching and listening to them.
And yes, the other level about not to fear falling. Something I definitely have to work at.
I like this one … I think it’s the rhythm that catches my attention – the the short thoughts written to provoke thoughts. Well done, Merril.
Thank you very much, Frank! Thanks for reading and commenting. Hope all is well with you and Ms. Angle.
Flight is just like a secret language. Lovely. (K)
Thank you very much, Kerfe.
I love the writing metaphor in this poem, starting with “Birds on a wire / like thoughts coming together.”
Thank you very much, Liz. I appreciate that!
You’re welcome, Merril!
I have often wondered the same thing! Wouldn’t it be grand to fly that high.. Maybe w need one of those flying suits like the cliff jumpers use!?
Thank you, Dwight. I think I’ll stick with just watching the birds and imagining. 😏
:>)
Beautiful musings on such an often underlooked sight.
Thank you so much, Derrick.
I love the simile in the opening lines, Merril, a poem assembling itself for a poet to record. That’s what poets have in common with birds, the
rhythm in a sentence. The final question is one I often ask myself.
Thank you so much for your close reading, Kim! Yes, I always imagine myself as the worst bird–getting motion sickness. 😏
What makes this for me is the subtle twist at the end—to be able to fly without fear of falling. It says so much more than simply envying birds the power of flight.
Thank you very much! 😀
🙂
kaykuala
what it’s like to rise so high
without fear of falling?
It would a wonderful bird’s eye view of the world for a start but more on the acrobatics of swallows and eagles that is fascinating.
Hank
Thank you, Hank. Yes, their acrobatics are fascinating.
We all envy the birds. I wonder what they envy about us?
Who knows? Maybe nothing at all.
Without the fear of falling….
Yes.
Murmurations are a free air show, intricate patterns, formed by hundreds of wings. When young, I had flying dreams, and it felt marvelous. About as close as we come is those lighter than air machines, solo; you, a motor, a propellor and the sky.
Thank you, Glenn. I agree about murmurations.
That secret language – the tip of a wing, a single beat, or the still act of rising on a current – I want to know that, as I think you do. You convey it so well.
Thank you so much, Ken. Yes, it’s all a mystery. And then today I was thinking about tails–why roadrunners have such big ones. (Colleen posted a photo and video on FB.) 😀 That must be part of the language, too–some birds look like they’re flipping someone off with their tails.
Loved this poem – the imagery and metaphorical references – your imagination really took flight here
Thank you very much, Laura.
What a lovely thought…the secret language of birds. Beautiful Merril.
Thank you so much, Rene!
You are so welcome and so deserving. You’re writing is always so beautiful!
😘
😘
Having spent hours observing my little flock of wild lovebirds, I too wonder what it would be like to fly and see the world from their point of view. They do have a secret language and the more I watch them, the more I come to understand how they communicate with one another.Truly lovely Merril.
Thank you very much, Linda!
Thoughts of flying from my poetry slam days…
Lost Hearts and Magic Trapeze Costumes:
(rekindled by reading this)
I’m glad my poem “rekindled” yours. Thanks for sharing. I’d like that trapeze costume, as well.
This is wonderful, Merril… Oh the freedom of soaring. It must be bliss.
Thank you very much, Dale!
You make me think of that old question, would you rather fly or be invisible. I don’t know how high I could go. My son had been afraid of heights. He never liked crossing long bridges. I only get nervous when I think about what could possibly happen.
Thank you. I don’t know how high I could go either–and I get motion sickness. 😏