Posted in Niamh Clune, poem, Poems/Poetry, poetry

Sparrow on the wind

You speak of death.Giovanni_Da_Udine_-_Study_of_a_Flying_Sparrow_-_WGA09431
But when death finally reaches out his hand
to snatch your soul,
he will find a little bird
fluttering and singing in his palm.
Entranced, he will stroke your feathers
and set you soaring to the winds.
They shall not buffer you
but lift you higher than the moon
to that distant star, dreamed by you
many Spring moments ago,
when in your imagination,
you flew into Jupiterian blue.
As a tiny chirping, delightful sparrow,
you shall make your exit.
And death shall hear your last thought.
And it shall make him jealous
of how you lived.

– Niamh Clune

(c) 2014, poem, Niamh Clune, All rights reserve; illustration, Giovanni Da Udine (1487-1564), Italian painter, stuccoist and architect

430564_3240554249063_1337353112_n-1orange-petals-cover_page_001DR. NIAMH CLUNE (Plum Tree Books Blog) ~ is the author of the Skyla McFee series: Orange Petals in a Storm, and Exaltation of a Rose. She is also the author of The Coming of the Feminine Christ: a ground-breaking spiritual psychology. Niamh received her Ph.D. from Surrey University on Acquiring Wisdom Through The Imagination and specialises in The Imaginal Mind and how the inborn, innate wisdom hidden in the soul informs our daily lives and stories. Niamh’s books are available in paperback (children’s books) and Kindle version (The Coming of the Feminine Christ). Dr. Clune is the CEO of Plum Tree Books and Art. Its online store is HERE.  Niamh’s Amazon page is HERE.

Author:

When I was a little girl (a very, very long time ago), I used to love learning new, really big words like ‘discombobulate’. As I grew, my love of words grew too, until I loved them so much, I could not stop writing them down. One day, as I was scribbling a particular word, a very peculiar thing happened. The word shouted at me, “Stop! Don’t put me there!” As you can imagine, I was shocked and nearly fell off my chair. When I recovered somewhat, I said to the word, “Could you stop shouting, please? I am not used to it.” Can you guess what happened next? No! I thought not. The word said, “I might be small, but I will misbehave if you do not use me properly. I will not tell the story you would like me to tell. I will say something entirely different!” I dropped my pen. I hoped that by dropping my pen, the word would stop talking. Alas! It did not. It carried on chitterchobbling, even after the ink had dried. I was in a pickle. I could not allow my words to run away with my story, now could I? I don’t know about you, but when this sort of thing happens, there is only one thing left to do if you prefer not to spend your time arguing. “Very well,” said I. “I will do as you ask if you will just be quiet and allow me to concentrate.” Since that day, I have been paying special attention to every word I invite into my stories. After all, a story should say exactly what it means to say and not be led astray. With love from Dr. Niamh, Ph.D in Learning Through The Imagination and Founder of Dr Niamh Children's Books. www.drniamhchildrensbooks.com

13 thoughts on “Sparrow on the wind

  1. Lovely poem, Niamh! !t very much reminds of Mary Oliver’s lovely poem “When Death Comes.” Taken from her book, New and Selected Poems. Beacon Press, Boston,1992. Especially these lines.

    “….and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
    tending, as all music does, toward silence,

    and each body a lion of courage, and something
    precious to the earth.

    When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
    I was a bride married to amazement.
    I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

    When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
    if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
    I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
    or full of argument.

    I don’t want to end op simply having visited this world.”

    Like

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