Stop and listen

Looking east

Stop and listen to the singing

of the thrush, the sunlight bringing

motes of gold, drifting earthwards

and a soaring flock of songbirds

sketched upon a winter sky.


Leap, with the kestrel fly

high above the sweeping dry

and seed-pod rattling grasses,

watch where her shadow passes;

that’s where the small things lie.


Take this day in trembling hands,

close your fingers on its sands,

on its colours bright, and keep

its golden light when rain clouds weep

their cold stony tears.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

20 thoughts on “Stop and listen”

  1. To say the least, this poem sings. I appreciate the use of the imperative to direct us to do something that would be so good for us. I’ve no doubt there are singers who would love to do the literal job (singing and directing).

  2. I can’t remember the last time I used or noticed the word tremble, yet I’m seeing it everywhere today and it seems so right. The world is definitely trembling. (K)

    1. We seem to have reached a tipping point. It’s beginning to accelerate. Why is it that the countries with the most devastating evidence are those most pig-headedly climate sceptic?

      1. It’s an awful thing to say, but I’m beginning to feel that there’s nothing we can do to stop it now. Individual effort is just so much wasted in the face of leaders and utterly selfish public opinion.

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