Christmas Sparrow
by Billy Collins
The first thing I heard this morning
was a rapid flapping sound, soft, insistent–
wings against glass as it turned out
downstairs when I saw the small bird
rioting in the frame of a high window,
trying to hurl itself through
the enigma of glass into the spacious light.
Then a noise in the throat of the cat
who was hunkered on the rug
told me how the bird had gotten inside,
carried in the cold night
through the flap of a basement door,
and later released from the soft grip of teeth.
On a chair, I trapped its pulsations
in a shirt and got it to the door,
so weightless it seemed
to have vanished into the nest of cloth.
But outside, when I uncupped my hands,
it burst into its element,
dipping over the dormant garden
in a spasm of wingbeats
then disappeared over a row of tall hemlocks.
For the rest of the day,
I could feel its wild thrumming
against my palms as I wondered about
the hours it must have spent
pent in the shadows of that room,
hidden in the spiky branches
of our decorated tree, breathing there
among the metallic angels, ceramic apples, stars of yarn,
its eyes open, like mine as I lie in bed tonight
picturing this rare, lucky sparrow
tucked into a holly bush now,
a light snow tumbling through the windless dark.
–from his latest poetry collection, Aimless Love, 2012.
I have this poetry collection and stumbled upon Christmas Sparrow by Billy Collins in the reading of it. Compared to the over-consumerism, rushed versions of this holiday season, this poem felt fresh and untarnished. It is a wonderful poem to help get you in the mood for perhaps a more natural Christmas. May we all “burst into [our] element” this holiday season.
P.S. Safe journey. xo
Susan Gabriel is the acclaimed author of The Secret Sense of Wildflower (named a Best Book of 2012 by Kirkus Reviews) as well as her latest novel, Temple Secrets and five other books. She lives in the mountains of North Carolina.
I loved this awesome poem of Christmas and new beginnings. My intention is to “burst’ with joy even when my heart is feeling broken. It is the least I can do.
Merry Christmas,
Mary
I’m sorry your heart is feeling broken, Mary. I know it’s a challenge for a lot of people this time of year and every year. But a goal of bursting with joy, sounds like a perfect thing to do in the midst of the brokenness.
Merry Christmas!
Susan
I love Billy Collins and also enjoy dabbling in poetry myself. On a cold winter morning I drove out Crab Creek road and pulled over by a stable and watched the fenced in horses. The poem below basically wrote itself. Merry Christmas to you.
Nancy
P.S. Here is the poem I wrote that day:
HARD FROST
Hard frost blanketed the valley pastures and hillsides.
Horses, fresh out of stalls, snorted, the hot breath
spewing from their nostrils turned to smoke.
They pawed frozen ground then shook their heads,
clearing hay strands from manes,
They pranced and gamboled to warm their bodies,
then nibbled on early winter’s earthly remains.
Hard frost never affected me that way.
Harsh words at day’s first light raised goose-bumps on my skin.
Cold shoulders never served as a blanket.
Too few peaks, too many valleys, turned love to ice.
A slap in the face caused me to shake my head,
to clear my main thoughts.
I gambled on a better way, packed my bags,
and nibbled at late life’s earthy remains.
This is a beautiful poem, Nancy. It contains elements of both hard and soft, tender and tough. You are a poet. My favorite part was the last line. Such a powerful last line: and nibbled at late life’s earthy remains. Good work!
Merry Christmas!
Susan
I looked out my window on Christmas morning and saw a poem that hate to say it might be a sequel: Christmas Puddy. Had Christmas Sparrow in his mouth.
Oh no! Life is brutal sometimes. May you never become prey, John. No fun.