Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Aeolian Harps

I now have two Aeolian harps;
Their presence in my garden
is like the echo of distant church bells.
I have had to change my way of listening
and focus my mind away
from outside noise and inner turbulence.
But the wind is neither consistent
nor a conscientious player.
When it blows fiercely,
my harps are enrolled on the spot
for my garden’s orchestra.
But other days, gust follows gust
and there is silence; only, once in a while,
amidst a rustle of leaves and swishing
of branches, I catch one solitary note.
But again there are days when the wind
seems to hover above the tree
calling forth a silver ripple of sound.
But this is high summer
with the trees in full foliage;
I do not know what the winter will bring.
It’s all in the gift of the wind.

3 comments:

  1. What a beautiful, peaceful poem. I have had no experience of Aeolian harps so it's a real treat to read this and to think of you listening intently, and in a vicarious way I do too.

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  2. I will be intrigued to hear your descriptions of the new sounds that arrive with the winter winds. PS.I figured out how to do the comments!!

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  3. I love this poem alot. Beautiful and wise!

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