Clarity
by Vievee Francis
Sorrow, O sorrow, moves like a loose flock
of blackbirds sweeping over the metal roofs, over the birches,
and the miles.
One wave after another, then another, then the sudden
opening
where the feathered swirl, illumined by dusk, parts to reveal
the weeping
heart of all things.
About this poem:
“Clarity is hard to come by. I believe in paths, and I have set myself upon mine. I believe in openings, like signals toward extraordinary possibilities. I hear it in a susurration of birds, a large flock I cannot identify moving overhead at sunset. Their calls billowing over this valley. As I listen, intently, I lose the sound and find myself enrapt by a thought. A new thought. The sound takes me somewhere then brings me back. Aren’t we all feeling some dread sorrow? It seems to me the birds echo the restless ache that I am only free of when I am sleeping, and even then—but, as I watch those birds in stark silhouette against the sky I never fail to see a brief opening. A sudden lustrous disclosure. Others are listening and watching the winged creatures with the same awe. Together we watch the dark-swung canopy open and we, because we feel lifted, we know, you and I, the weight of our lives.”
—Vievee Francis
https://mailchi.mp/poets/january-12-2024-poemaday-12138304-331miebijr-12138888?e=2706955217
