Finch eggs in a nest on my front door wreath captivated me to such a degree that I failed to see what was happening outside the back door: a bright flash of blue disappearing in the little bird church -bluebird occupants brought Easter eggs, too.
On my back deck, Easter afternoon: a male bluebird is either bringing food to his mate or helping to feed babies. He entered and exited multiple times; once I was sure he was flying off with a bright blue piece of eggshell. These are the first-ever occupants of the little bird church, which has just been sitting on the deck as decor. I’ve seen the female as well. So hoping to get photos of bluebird babies soon (I need a better camera…this was taken with my phone through the kitchen window and screen).
My soul rejoices in this proliferation of feathered life, that songbirds have chosen my home for their own.
How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.
Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.
In honor of the day, an excerpt of “Jesus Makes Sin Forgivable” by Anne Graham Lotz in Just Give Me Jesus (2000):
The Pharisees couldn’t stand Him but found they couldn’t stop Him Satan tried to tempt Him but found he couldn’t trip Him Pilate examined Him on trial but found he couldn’t fault Him The Romans crucified Him but found they couldn’t take His life Death couldn’t handle Him and the grave couldn’t hold Him.
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And a happy Easter haiku for you:
I have no more eggs. As of this morning, new life. Dawn exultation.
Here is a variation of my previous post, Eggsultation, in the 4×4 poem form shared by Denise Krebs on Ethical ELA for VerseLove: Four stanzas of four lines, any topic. Note how the lead line moves in the stanzas.
Eggsultation
Exultation: Finches return to make a nest atop the wreath
on my front door Exultation: grass artistry made without hands.
Speckled blue eggs —one, two, three, four. Exultation: tiny new life
In all the generations of finches hatched in wreaths on my front door I have never known a mother to lay just one egg and leave
but that is what your mother did last Sunday.
Here you’ve been ever since resting in your nest, forlorn in the freezing cold
day after day after day
one blue egg one blue door one long blue silence one blue human (that would be me, Franna, sad self-appointed custodian checking on you every morning)
until Friday
when, out of the blue, there were TWO of you!
On Saturday, three!
On Sunday, no more… although I heard the most beautiful singing at my door
then on Monday… FOUR.
Little Blue Eggs galore.
I do not know where your parents were during those five days of your cold blue lonesomeness or how your mother could withhold her charming clutch for so long
but I know this thing: your father and mother sing every morning like tiny angels in eggsultation
and so do I.
Little Blue Egg gets a sibling five days later
A quartet of Little Blue Eggs… joy!
A short clip of the parents’ music… it echoes throughout the house. No wonder that finches symbolize joy or that their collective noun is a “charm.” Some sources say only males sing; others say females sing in spring. Listening to their bright morningsong, I am reminded of these lyrics from O Come, All Ye Faithful: Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation…
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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Tuesday Slice of Life Story Challenge
note: the letter to Little Blue Egg (alone no more!) is an epistolary poem for Day Five of National Poetry Month
with thanks to Andrew Moore, host of Sunday’s Open Write on Ethical ELA. Andrew challenged teacher-poets to compose around lament plus celebration (these don’t have to be related; this is meant to be exercise in writing freely, in any form). He writes: “My inspiration comes from a distinct lack of good sadness, grief, and lament beside a healthy laugh and looking forward to the changes the future may bring.”The poem can be as light-hearted, silly, or serious as the poet desires.
Here’s where I am today:
Remains
Today, I mourn the destruction of trees along my rural byways the displacement of wildlife the destruction of Ukraine the displacement of her people the systemic demoralization of teachers the systemic misplacement of trust
Today, I celebrate the remnants of trees wildlife Ukraine her people teachers trust
Today, I hope for restoration in revelation and reverence
before all become revenants
“The Elephant – great destruction.” Public domain. Note the trees, the cities, the elephant all in stages of disappearing … elephants, by the way, symbolize wisdom, memory, prosperity…
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with thanks also to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March.
Have you ever seen an angel sporting sparkly wings on a festive llama dress with maroon Chuck Taylors and assorted barrettes seriously chomping a mouthful of candy cane?