Apropos of nothing, happiness
smaller than a heartbeat
but puffed up, nonetheless,
perched on my window sill
and sang like a diva.
Grace, the I Ching warns, is temporary -
a break in the fog,
a sapphire wren and his mate courting,
the way a dog grins at you
as though you both share a joke.
Hold this small harvest lightly
given without supplication
given away - merely
a seed on a ghost of breath.
Catherine Bateson, 2014.
I have been watching wrens from my study window and they inspired this poem, just in time for Tuesday! Flit over to the Tuesday poem blog where you can read guest editor, Helen Rickerby's chosen poem - 'No Rough Verses' from I, Clodia by Anna Jackson.
Clodia was, very likely, the Lesbia of the poems of Catullus. And, of course, one of his most famous poems also featured a bird - 'The Death of Lesbia's Sparrow'. You can read a translation of that poem here. I do love it when there's a link between my poem and the Tuesday poem, however tenuous!