Along the rail
Gulls sit
In their cloud-coloured plumes
Against the blue,
Perfection in the soft sky tones.
On the radio,
Cavaradossi sings
And the world is still,
Breathless,
The heart vibrating with the heavenly notes.
Sometimes art comes close
To imitating nature’s beauty.
For me, art takes work on the part of the observer to translate images, sounds, etc into beauty. When in nature it’s just being. No translation, no work..just what is…and your mouth drops open, ears hearing, eyes seeing, nose smelling..just experiencing what is. Still it’s fun to try to capture it with paintings, photos etc.
I feel the same way. Watching sixty or so gulls sitting on the rail by the river, just being beautiful is breathtaking. And so simple to understand. The only thing that ever comes close for me is some music, usually opera. Makes the hairs at the back of my neck tingle.
Lovely! I like the gulls in their ‘cloud-coloured plumes’. There is a really lazy summer day feel about this poem, comes across very strong.
We thought it was going to be really cold this morning but the sun was lovely and warm. The gulls looked pleased too 🙂
Lucky you… not so here, but at least there was no snow, the ground was not slippy with ice, the wind wasn’t howling. It was just so wet and so GREY… it’s enough to make you jump in a lake in search of the Otherworld!
I’m going by boat. A Viking longship if necessary. Or down a very long stone passage. I’m jumping in no lakes!
That water’s too bloody cold! I wouldn’t mind arriving on the back of Aonbhar… that would be quite a ride!
Like that line, “cloud coloured plumes” 🙂
Thank you! Once I’d thought of the image I couldn’t think of a better way of describing the colour of the gulls’ plumage 🙂