"The real trick to life is not to be in the know, but to be in the mystery."
-Fred Alan Wolf

24 October 2016


A wall of woodland overlooks me.
A blackbird sings me a song (no lie!).
Above my book, with its lines laid out;
the birds in their music sing to me.

The cuckoo sings clear in lovely voice
in his gray cloak from a bushy fort.
I swear it now, but God is good!
It is lovely writing out in the wood.

How lovely is today!
The sunlight breaks and flickers
on the margin of my book

A bird is calling from the willow
with lovely beak, a clean call.
Sweet yellow tip; he is black and strong.
It is doing a dance, the blackbird's song

The little bird
let out a whistle
from his beak tip
bright yellow.
He sends the note
across Loch Laig
- a blackbird, a branch
a mass of yellow

Anonymous, from 9th century Gaelic monastery

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