Some birds don’t know how to jazz
like the cuckoo –
stuck they are with a note or two at intervals;
others are nature’s great improvisers,
at rest on branch or twig their spirit soars in song,
wheeling and turning with grace.
Strange it is, that those who trouble with the winds
are not the greatest jazz artists;
their skill is found in flight.
But songsters of the wood – there are many –
explore the art of variation,
while in our gardens blackbird and thrush
extrapolate their melodies.
Yet dear to me is the robin’s sweet song,
gracing winter’s dark days
and above all the lark,
spinning its burblings on high.
By these great jazzsters has my heart been taught
that truly, beauty springeth out of naught !
[ the last line is a quote from “All my hope on God is founded” by Robert Bridges ]
Bird Jazz – for Jeremy
B
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Can you be more specific about the content of your article? After reading it, I still have some doubts. Hope you can help me.
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