Songbirds do you remember the first time you sang? was it 4 am, your soul’s sound a lone ripple in darkness or did you wait for the morning chorus, blend your voice in? was it midday, your lungs pointing toward the sun or was your first warble just before bed a lullaby to the wind-swaying trees? did you present yourself on the highest stage or nestle invisible behind the curtain? did you call out to every star and syrinx or did you sing soft and quiet for no one at all or share only when loved ones were listening? where did you learn to hear the music of being did someone help teach you arpeggios and scales or were you born with special knowing your own perfect pitch? do you remember that very first song did you bob your head to your heart’s singular beat or did your lungs fill with melancholy air? were you scared did you wait past your peers until you alone were ready, or were you curious did melody burst forth from your feathers you couldn’t have held back if you tried? do you remember that first time you dared sing in this world? did you feel so fluttery with goodness or were you ashamed? tell me, did your voice feel as true and breathtaking as wings? does it still?
Lisa Meserole teaches music and movement to young children in Connecticut. Her poems have appeared in Waking Up to the Earth, and in Oysterville: Poems, as well as in Connecticut River Review, Green Hills Literary Lantern, and Shot Glass Journal. She was also an Edwin Way Teale Writer-In-Residence at Trail Wood.
Amethyst Review 