Niquette Bay State Park outside of Burlington, VT
One of the most sumptuous things on this worldly plane of existence
Is the song of a hermit thrush on a summer’s day
Fluted arias pearlesce from the mouth of a brown-winged angel
Magical and delicate notes reflect and echo each other in fairy-like timbre and tone
Like Narcissus, I am wholly entranced
They ring out from the undulating, rustling canopy
Their source hidden
Stealthy
As they serenade the entire forest
And lull us into the most somber stupor
Spent in awe of such sonic spellcraft
I can do my best to be a brittle bard
And recount the battle between my ego and my soul
The moment I hear their song
But no words can do the experience justice
No record can win
Your own life-laden footsteps must stop
Dead
To listen
In utter wonder
Surrounded by the thrush’s dance partners in life:
The trees
The roots
The the forest
Only that way
May you experience
Being charmed for the rest of your days
By an unassuming, shockingly plain-looking little bird
By the very animate, expertly enchanting non-human world
How many of us
Never experience this beauty
Locked away in our cages of castles
Never to know this forest-bound ecstasy
That brings me
Monetarily
Into Faerie