WHITE-THROATED SPARROW

White-throated Sparrow

Home, Upstate South Carolina

                                             The goldfinches are back, or others like them,

                                             and the white-throated sparrow's five-note song,

                                             pleading and pleading, brings tears to the eyes.

                                             Nature repeats herself, or almost does;

                                             repeat, repeat, repeat, revise, revise, revise.

From the poem "North Haven"

by Elizabeth Bishop

RENEWAL

Morning Bath for a Field Sparrow

Upstate South Carolina

With Thanks to the Field Sparrow,

Whose Voice is So Delicate and Humble

By Mary Oliver

                                                     I do not live happily or comfortably

                                                     with the cleverness of our times.

                                                     The talk is all about computers, 

                                                     the news is all about bombs and blood.

                                                     This morning, in the fresh field,

                                                     I came upon a hidden nest.

                                                     It held four warm, speckled eggs.

                                                     I touched them.

                                                     Then went away softly,

                                                     having felt something more wonderful

                                                     than all the electricity of New York City.

HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

Song Sparrow

Upstate South Carolina

"Hope" is the Thing with Feathers

By Emily Dickinson

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.