His yellow smock
offers no apologies
for its brazen attempt
to embody the bold cry
that we fear might pass
our own lips.
Even on culturally accepted
moments of
ecstatic inspiration –
Such as the viewing
of spring-time blooms –
So many will remain
wanting of their
expression
of Glory.
© 2010-2012/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems fro Changing the World from the Inside Out" (Hiraeth Press; http://www.hiraethpress.com)
“Peent!” “Peent!”
says he recently returned.
First near, then far,
then near again.
“Peent!” “Peent!”
Is his soul fickle?
This audible advance and retreat,
advance and retreat.
No.
In the misty dusk air he circles.
With his feathered body,
he recites the ancient spiral dance
known to all mystics,
He announces the auspicious Truth
of who he is.
Suddenly the Cosmos calls him skyward
and he casts himself into the heavens.
Up he launches in body and soul,
outward and inward.
Rising.
He twitters in the winged voice of ecstasy,
a cascade of emotions released so emphatically
that they collide upon utterance.
His heart becomes frantic as he circles
a hundred meters arisen
above bog or meadow or powerline cut.
Twittering.
Twittering.
The heart must expand or explode.
The heart must expand or explode.
And then, at climax, he chirps.
He chirps a loud vocal, urgent “Yes!” chirp,
signifying his acceptance of
the holy duties of embodiment.
More vocal chirps amidst twittering.
And more.
His heart has expanded beyond reason.
Oh, take note:
The descent that follows is no defiance
of The Great Spirit.
It is instead acknowledgment.
Acknowledgment of his willingness
to pledge himself in service
Of the Great Mother.
Of Creation.
Of Eternity.
Of the destined union of God and Goddess.
Where he lands,
She awaits,
Ready to play Her part.
Ready, like he, to give the Spirits an intimate
flesh form through which to dance
and merge.
“Peent!” “Peent!”
© 2009-2012/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in Written River Summer Volume 1 (2): 25-26. See Hiraeth Press: http://www.hiraethpress.com
----
When woodcocks return from migration in the spring
the males perform an elaborate, aerial courtship dance.
The twittering sound is not a vocalization, but a sound
produced by a special feather in their wings.
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