I Do Not Yearn for Wings

I don’t remember when I developed a fascination with winged creatures, but somewhere along the line birds, especially, got my attention, and I also take special note of dragonflies and butterflies.

I never had the patience to develop an adequate knowledge of the complexities of using a really good camera, and I am mostly contented that my little point-and-shoot Nikon does as much as I need.

Our family makes two annual treks to see butterflies at the Desert Botanical Gardens in Phoenix—Monarchs in the fall, and the spring exhibit of a wonderfully diverse selection of lepidoptera from various locales.

That contained environment allows me to get some pretty decent photos of butterflies, and those will probably show up in this blog from time to time just because I like them.

I also occasionally write poems about winged things.

Herewith one of those offerings—

Photo of hawk on the meme by Stephen Sielaff  –  Design of poetry meme and photo of hummingbird by John Tarr

I do not yearn for wings myself,

Feel no longing to escape these clay-bound feet;

But my eyes soak in the paths of flight,

Treasuring up the flashing course of hummingbird,

Hovering of dragonfly,

Yellow sulfur’s silent drift

And thermal-riding soar of hawk.

Mockingbird’s exultant leap from topmost branch

And verdin’s cheerful navigation of his leafy world

Feed the heart 

And lend another kind of wing.

I do not yearn for wings myself—

Theirs are enough.

At the Butterfly Pavilion

 

Wings,

Everywhere wings,

Diversely patterned and colored—

Julias, Queens, Zebras, Swallowtails—

Wings

The urge to catalog is strong

But one needs not to miss the feel

Of air alive with mariposa,

The wonder in a child’s eyes

When head, shoulder, hand

Become for a moment

A butterfly resting place

What lavish joy of God,

Painting on these ephemeral canvases

His wealth of color and gleam—

They toil more than lilies,

But here, as well, Solomon’s array is all outdone

By wings.

Come visit me in my Poetry Blog Corner anytime and bring some coffee.

 

I Do Not Yearn for Wings

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I Do Not Yearn for Wings
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I Do Not Yearn for Wings
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A poem by the Poet Monk. I do not yearn for wings myself, feel no longing to escape these clay...
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Poet Monk
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