Many of us “bloggers” have talked about what prompted us
to write a specific piece. Be it a book, a poem, an article or
something visual that caught the eye.
I find it interesting to learn about you and how your conscious
and subconscious work together to trigger a story. There are as
many different ways as there are writers and no work would exist
without some inspiration. This is my belief.
My poem ‘Songbird’ below came to me in the morning two days
ago. The word SONGBIRD just came and I felt that compelling feeling
to pick up my notebook. I wrote what you see below without thinking
or stopping – this time even without editing.
That it was written in first person I cannot explain. The “ I “ could be a male or female.
The hidden message that seems to be there I can still only
guess at, hopefully it will come clear as it otherwise is strange.
So, this time the source of inspiration comes after the poem.
SONGBIRD
A songbird landed on my hand
looked at me and sang,
sang from her pure heart;
With delight I watched and listened
But didn’t join in
nor give her even a crumb,
Next day she came back
pecked at my hand, then sang,
the most wondrous song
I didn’t say a word
nor give her a crumb,
I was delighted and told my friends
but what about the bird
that sang her heart out
I just didn’t think of her
Didn’t give a crumb,
One morning she sat on my hand,
she didn’t sing,
Just looked in sadness
moving her head back and forth,
Then she flew; higher and higher
I never saw her again.
Finally I understood my selfish ways
I hope she found someone who knew
how to love.
I will forever miss this soulful bird.
© miriam ivarson
My Window 