within the call
of the mourning dove
there is a low
swooping note
that mimics
the fall of an oak leaf;
a grain of wheat
burrowing into the ground
Rene ~ 2013
For Susie's prompt to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, The Secret Life of Bees, and inspired by a quote from the book by Sue Monk Kidd:
“It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.”
of the mourning dove
there is a low
swooping note
that mimics
the fall of an oak leaf;
a grain of wheat
burrowing into the ground
Rene ~ 2013
For Susie's prompt to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, The Secret Life of Bees, and inspired by a quote from the book by Sue Monk Kidd:
“It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.”
This was sweet ... crisp ... real ... fall-like and delicious!
ReplyDeleteohhhh, yes.
ReplyDeleteI will never hear a mourning dove quite the same again. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written ~ These notes do remind us of something deeper ~
ReplyDeleteSuch a wonderful piece...my mother loved to hear mourning doves. She called them rain birds because so often it was the first bird she heard after a rain. Thank you so much for taking part in the challnge.
ReplyDeleteOr the mournful whispers of stars as the rest of the universe flies away from us...
ReplyDeleteBeautifully evocative writing. There is something in your use of metaphor which reminds me of Emily Dickinson. The emotion is under-stated but incredibly real.
ReplyDeleteSimple, yet profound. I love weaving nature into poems - this is perfect.
ReplyDeleteHi Rene, sorry to be a stranger of late. This poem is both charming and subtle, and I like it very much. Your work is a pleasure. Indigo x
ReplyDelete