This is so beautiful. When someone says "the beautiful struggle" or some other such phrase I'm tempted to write off as an oxymoron, I hope I can remember the image of the starling and the embodied beauty of the struggle. And perhaps, part of the beauty is that the starling was not alone in the struggle, but dependent on the support of others, who waited for an hour, watching, passing the vigil of his struggle with him.
Just what I needed, today. The imagery is fresh in my mind as several houseguests and I tried to shoo a little bird out of my house recently. The little thing knocked himself silly and fell to the floor, revived, left blood and feathers all over my ceilings, and finally escaped. Oh, dear bird, I hope you are all right.
Well, seeing as I was sitting on my back porch when I opened this (where birds routinely sneak in and get trapped) and I was also getting ready to quit procrastinating and start writing, this post couldn't have been more apt and timely! The metaphor is truly ALIVE for me! Thank you, Richard Wilbur!!
I have not read a truer analogy for the clatter and hunching and trying of writing. Especially for the young writer. I am an old writer now…50+ years of it. Wilbur’s words made me weepy for the bird, for that daughter. But also for her watching father and for me.
Amazing how Wilbur uses the language to make you feel like you're both battering around and sitting stunned in turns while reading the poem (or while you're inside of it really). What a delight!
I've been slowly reading more and more of Wilbur's work. I hadn't encountered this one yet. Wow. "Batter against the brilliance" and "humped and bloody, / For the wits to try it again" are wonderful. And the moment it finally passes over the sill! I felt myself let out my breath after unknowingly holding it. Thank you for sharing.
(Also share your secret of a successful birdbath. The birds won't come to mine!)
This is so beautiful. When someone says "the beautiful struggle" or some other such phrase I'm tempted to write off as an oxymoron, I hope I can remember the image of the starling and the embodied beauty of the struggle. And perhaps, part of the beauty is that the starling was not alone in the struggle, but dependent on the support of others, who waited for an hour, watching, passing the vigil of his struggle with him.
Just what I needed, today. The imagery is fresh in my mind as several houseguests and I tried to shoo a little bird out of my house recently. The little thing knocked himself silly and fell to the floor, revived, left blood and feathers all over my ceilings, and finally escaped. Oh, dear bird, I hope you are all right.
I hope the alligator painting is still in the new office!
I second that!
Well, seeing as I was sitting on my back porch when I opened this (where birds routinely sneak in and get trapped) and I was also getting ready to quit procrastinating and start writing, this post couldn't have been more apt and timely! The metaphor is truly ALIVE for me! Thank you, Richard Wilbur!!
What a gorgeous garden, Jonathan!
Garden house : Writer goals!
A piece of heaven.
Right?! It's like a portal to another world.
I have not read a truer analogy for the clatter and hunching and trying of writing. Especially for the young writer. I am an old writer now…50+ years of it. Wilbur’s words made me weepy for the bird, for that daughter. But also for her watching father and for me.
Amazing how Wilbur uses the language to make you feel like you're both battering around and sitting stunned in turns while reading the poem (or while you're inside of it really). What a delight!
I'm so thankful to receive again the gift of this stunning poem--"clearing the sill of the world" !!
I've been slowly reading more and more of Wilbur's work. I hadn't encountered this one yet. Wow. "Batter against the brilliance" and "humped and bloody, / For the wits to try it again" are wonderful. And the moment it finally passes over the sill! I felt myself let out my breath after unknowingly holding it. Thank you for sharing.
(Also share your secret of a successful birdbath. The birds won't come to mine!)
Who knew getting kicked out of one's house could mean so much abundance??
"Blamming" I will have to use this word. Thank you for this picture. I love it.
Thank you for that blessing and the reminder of the stakes.
Thanks for sharing, Richard Wilbur is one of my favorite poets
Lovely