SPIRITUAL AVIARY for the Year by Jane Beal, PhD
Green Wall Press Chicago * Denver * San Francisco
SPIRITUAL AVIARY Copyright @ 2014 by Jane Beal All rights reserved Acknowledgements: The majority of the poems included in this collection, and many of the moments that inspired them, appear on my Birdwatcher’s Diary blog (http://birdwatchersdiary.wordpress.com – originally posted between summer 2013 and summer 2014). With the help of my brother, saxophonist and composer Andrew Beal, I set “Great White Egret” to music in February 2014, and the song appears on our recording project, The Jazz Bird (available at http://soundcloud.com/jane-beal). The poem is in memory of my friend Jennifer Franet and in honor of her daughter, Sage. Thank you, Andrew, for helping me make music! I am thankful for the people who were with me when I was birdwatching during the past year, especially my sister Alice, my brother Andrew, his wife (and my friend) Debbie, my goddaughter Sage, my midwife friend Nicole in the Philippines and my Acholi friend Viola and her daughter Maggie in Uganda. I was thinking of my friend Gary when I wrote key lines in “Menagerie on Samal Island,” “Northern Mockingbird in the Rain,” and “Blue Hyacinth Macaw.” I am especially thankful for my parents, and I’ve gathered the poems in this collection together in honor of my mother Barbara and step-father Rudy, with whom I shared several birding adventures this year, including the Pacific Flyway Festival, the hike in Lynch Canyon, and the Osprey Days on Mare Island. Though they were not with me, my parents helped support my travels in Uganda and the Philippines, where I saw extraordinary birds. I particularly want to thank my step-father: the binoculars that I borrowed from you enabled me to see certain things much more clearly. “Those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31 (NLT)
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TABLE OF CONTENTS Soul-Cage … 7 SUMMER Northern California The Birds of Midsummer … 9 Tree Swallow … 10 Ospreys of Mare Island … 11 Black Phoebe … 12 Spotted Towhee … 13 SPRING Philippine Islands and Northern California Menagerie on Samal Island … 15 Slender Sparrows of Davao City … 16 Black-Headed Munia … 17 Western Kingbird … 18 Killdeer … 19 WINTER Northern and Central Coast California Northern Mockingbird in the Rain … 21 Lompoc Bluebird … 22 Mockingbirds in November … 23 Blue Jay, Bushtit and White-Tailed Kite … 24 Great White Egret … 25 Avian Proverb … 27
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FALL Northern California Anna’s Hummingbirds in December … 29 Dream Bird … 30 Blue Hyacinth Macaw … 31 Crow through a Square Window … 32 Red-Tailed Hawk over Benicia Bay Trail … 33 SUMMER Acholiland, Northern Uganda, East Africa Pin-Tailed Whydah Bird … 35 Southern Cordon-Bleu … 36 Birds Outside my Hut … 37 Common Bulbul … 38 Red-Backed Shrike … 39 Postscript: Scattering … 40 About the Poet … 41
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SPIRITUAL AVIARY for the Year __
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SOUL-CAGE My soul is a bird rattling around in the bone-cage of my ribs – my heart has two bloody wings, spread wide – build me a mud nest and let me settle in.
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SUMMER __
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THE BIRDS OF MIDSUMMER The other evening, when the light was lingering long (almost as long as today, Midsummer’s Day, when we have the most light of the year), I went for a walk with my dog in Benicia. We went over to the Field and the Pond, and when I was on the crest of the hill, a Great White Egret flew across my line of vision – beautiful, amazing, winging her way west toward the waters of the Bay. Then ... A barn swallow swooped up, dancing on the wind, darting, split-tailed, a spirit of pure joy. When I went down the hill, I crossed the path and entered a stand of Eucalyptus trees. I saw three red-breasted robins and four black crows, and I heard the mourning doves cooing, hidden among the leaves and branches of the tall trees with their peeling trunks. How beautiful it was to me to see and hear the birds of my home! I felt the same the other morning when I woke up and heard a Northern Mockingbird singing me a symphony. 6/22
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TREE SWALLOW Small tree swallow chick looks lost in the chain link fence – but your mother comes. Mid-air, she feeds you the life that life needs to fly – true love finds you here. 6/29
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OSPREYS OF MARE ISLAND Fish-hawk! You dive into the water and come up rich, silver flesh in your fierce talons then return to the four-hundred pound nest you built on top of a dead palm tree – a nest of spices, O Pandion!, beneath the shining sun. There your three daughters await you, beaks ready to tear apart the food you bring where they walk on the edge of the nest, spreading their wings, feathering one another as they grow ready to lift themselves into mid-air and fly free over the muddy shores and glittering waves, over miles of green earth that are already your life-long memories, your struggle throughout the endless days. 6/29
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BLACK PHOEBE Eucalyptus scent, Black Phoebe fluttering low – I see you clearly. 7/3
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SPOTTED TOWHEE Your song makes me stop. I lift the binoculars to my eyes. I see you hidden in the scrub-brush: black wings, white-spotted, with your red sides tilting back your dark head as you open your black throat and a sweet melody pours forth into the morning air. Don’t startle! I am going to walk past you – Spotted Towhee, secret singer. 7/4
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SPRING __
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MENAGERIE ON SAMAL ISLAND Birds like you don’t belong in a cage – Tarictic Hornbill, Brahminy Kite! Birds like you, so bright – Silver Pheasant & Yellow-Gold! Sing for me, Chattering Lory – sing for me, Blue & Red! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would see all of you in one day— the day I needed you most. Now the Blue-Crowned Pigeon reminds me of dream-prophecy, here fulfilled – now the Imperial Pied Pigeon reminds me of the Emperor-Spirit before whose shining greatness I fell prostrate in a marvelous vision in which He spoke and said – “This is my world, and you are my midwife.” Who will be born into my hands? The African Love Birds know secrets that no eyes have seen nor ears have heard, that have not entered into the hearts of men. The Ring-Necked Parrot is unafraid despite all that he has suffered, and the doors to these cages can still open. Give me courage, O Lord, and make me strong that I may serve you all my life – for now I see that you break the Fowler’s trap! 5/17
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SLENDER SPARROWS OF DAVAO CITY The sparrows are slender here. I see the little men, with black tied around their necks, but their little women are hidden somewhere behind cement walls. May/June
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BLACK-HEADED MUNIA Here you are at my feet! Pretty finches, you’ve found the only green grass in the sidewalk as far as I can see. Mayang pula! Mayang pula! Red Maya, may you find the seed you need, here in the loneliest city on earth. 6/4
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WESTERN KINGBIRD At the crest, where the hill turns to meadow, where the thistles and thorns and faded grasses grow I see you, Western Kingbird, blue-headed but dressed in yellow like the sky over the summer-field. You are clinging to a bending weed, between feeding and flying but I know the wild wind will soon carry you farther away than my eyes can see. 5/3
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KILLDEER We hike into Lynch Canyon, where the hills are green in spring and the eerie voice of a ghost whistles overhead. The cows, unbothered, chew their cud. By the stream, dark and reedy, we hear the red-winged blackbirds sing but we nearly miss you, Killdeer, standing at our feet! Your feathers hide you against the muddy earth. You nestle down and hardly move, in that mud-hole by the water’s edge. Who will see you, frightened heart? God shield your life forever. 5/3
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WINTER __
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NORTHERN MOCKINGBIRD IN THE RAIN How fresh and green the world is when it rains at March’s end! Trees lift up their bright green leaves to the gray canvas of the sky waving in the wind like songs of joy bursting forth for spring. A gray and white mockingbird flutters down to a greening vine then hops down into dark fern, invisible – except for his song. O, that song! It fills the rainy air with mirth and moves the lonely heart to remember love, sweeter than honey, under the delicate, dropping flowers of the wisteria entwined with the wooden trellis that leans toward the light of eternity, the unbroken light of unending day. 3/27
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LOMPOC BLUEBIRD Flash of blue wings! Swooping across my line of sight over the street to the low roof-top, you fly, singing, and you make my heart rejoice. 2/7
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MOCKINGBIRDS IN DECEMBER Coming around the curve of the street, I looked up and saw two grey mockingbirds with white feathers in their tails flirting and flitting in and out of the bright leaves of a tree impossibly green in December. Walking down a hill, on the left side of the street, I paused in front of a stranger’s driveway because a golden house-cat locked eyes with me, a bird in his mouth, his teeth through her back— a sparrow still alive but barely breathing. When I reached home, I could hear the mockingbirds singing as if nothing were wrong with the world. 12/15
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BLUEJAY, BUSHTIT, AND WHITE-TAILED KITE Walking down the dirt hillside I see the blades of grass drinking the morning light & my shadow, like a dark angel, stretched out over them— a blue jay in the distance sweeping over eight or nine orange pumpkins and then disappearing into a tree— a flock of tiny bushtits singing as they flit and flutter in the bushes beside my path— and then, at last, a white hawk with black wing tips and a black-shadowed tail, hovering in wide circles above the hilly grassland, hunting, sharp-eyed and wheeling— she vanishes over the hillcrest to my left. I make my way downward, to faded blackberry bushes, then out of wilderland and back onto a city street. 1/20
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GREAT WHITE EGRET O ghost of startling beauty! Great Egret, with your white breast that flashes in the sky, before our eye: you swoop in a swift half-circle your wide-open wings braking against invisible air, there, before you curve in the other direction making half of a figure eight, the symbol of eternity. Now you stand, balanced momentarily on top of a low fence peering down before you disappear from the street-view, —we follow you—unable to resist the invitation to a divine mystery: beyond the hill of ivy, the air has borne you to the shallow waters of the stream. There you are hunting. At dusk, near the end of day, hunger drives you, and you wade in dark waters, your long neck outstretched, moving slowly in your slenderness, your legs as black as your wings are white, watching the way of the air around you, watching the ripples in the water, watching for tiny movements in the silent stream. Your twin walks beside you, your white wings reflected in the water. The trees overshadow you both. When you lift yourself into the air, she disappears as if you were never there.
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But when the trees and the tall grass conceal you, when you have gone on where our eyes cannot follow you Still, we know, you live. 12/28
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AVIAN PROVERB Birds trapped in a cage will never fly far; birds free in the wild may hunger for more. Open your wings! Become who you are! The myst’ry of being leads to new lore. 1/21
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FALL __
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ANNA’S HUMMINGBIRDS IN DECEMBER I stopped at the black mailbox and suddenly, as if you whispered to me, looked up to see you, tiny angel, and still – you were there, a shimmer of green, glimmering and you flittered down from your high place in air closer to my low place on earth, sweet mirth, looking at me, curiously – so close I thought you would fly down to kiss me like a red flower! But you disappeared into heaven like a messenger going back to God. White clouds welcomed the touch of your amazing wings – flittering things, glittering things – and Joy was like Resurrection in springtime. 12/23
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DREAM BIRD I dreamed of you in December: teal-blue, a lacy crown on your head, fanning forward— a peacock impossible in nature! You hovered in midair, lighter than your length, and alighted on my hand like you knew me— you reminded me of someone I loved who left this life. You pressed the valley between my thumb and forefinger to bring healing with your devotion— a trustworthy teacher in the secret night. Spirit from another world, guide me now! How was I to know that you were a prophecy I would see fulfilled on Samul Island in the Philippines? How I long to see you again, uncaged in heavenly places, and know the hope that you have and the wisdom of your heart. 12/7
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BLUE HYACINTH MACAW I was with one sister and thinking of another when I saw you, beautiful bird, on the shoulder of an ordinary man wearing blue jeans and a white tee-shirt walking down the middle of a side-road. I was admiring your blue coat, Bright Parrot, when you turned your yellow-circled eye and met mine across the cement distance of the city intersection, startling me with your sudden perception. How did you know I was watching you? I remember you turning toward me like a lover. Now I marvel at how far you traveled from South America to California to find your home at last. 12/15
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CROW THROUGH A SQUARE WINDOW Afternoon, but the fattening sliver of the white moon is still visible in the blue sky hanging over a tall tree whose leaves are dying in the fall, whose branches are nearly naked as a black bird flies through them wings out-stretched— dark crow in November. 11/15
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RED-TAILED HAWK OVER THE BENICIA BAY TRAIL I. Song-birds singing in the metal towers and wires that crown the brow of the hill like thorns – Coyote on the hillside, coat the color of dried grass, visible only because he is loping across the land – II. Red-tailed hawk! Skimming the sky shooting down from on high, brimming over the flat-land – Old ground-squirrel making his little leap from the low tree-branch to hide in his hole – III. The sunlight is shining on the water-waves like glitter spilled across the Bay. The horizon goes on forever.
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SUMMER __
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PIN-TAILED WHYDAH BIRD I was walking in Parawaca down a red-dirt path through the tall, green grass past the careless leaves of cassava plants brushing against my thighs with my Acholi friend, Viola, walking behind me, beside me, her baby Maggie tied on her back with a yellow cloth when I saw you: Pin-Tailed Whydah bird! Your black and white wings, opened on the breeze, and your pure-black tail, twelve inches long, seemed to swim through the air. For three weeks, I have been blind but today, once again, I see. 8/10
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SOUTHERN CORDON-BLEU At breakfast in east Africa, it was odd to be talking about the problems of medical insurance in America, which made me want to look up and away, and I did, into a green tree, and there you were: four or five Southern Cordon-Bleu, with your teal bellies and brown hoods, darting through the down-hanging tropical leaves, singing your little songs, and I knew you did not worry for God takes care of you. 8/11
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BIRDS OUTSIDE MY HUT I wished I had not gotten up so quickly from the mat on the floor of my hut, to go to the door and call out to my Acholi friend, walking down the red-dirt path to meet me for Sunday prayer. For when I did, I startled a flock of large black birds with red bills out of their peaceful morning repose into the sky, and I did not have the chance to identify them— unless they were Retz’s Helmet-Shrikes. They could have been. 8/11
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COMMON BULBUL I love you, ordinary bird – so easy to see and to know like a best friend I haven’t seen in years but meet again and walk with as if no time has passed at all. Aug/Sept
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RED-BACKED SHRIKE You flit from the ground-water to the banana tree, singing! Flying off between mud huts, your wings reach out red and shining – your tail fans out black with a flash of white: The morning welcomes you! The sky looks down and smiles! As the heat rises, you vanish into the green fields of cassava then into the tall grasses by the marshy pond like an invitation to a journey down a road whose destination is unknown. Aug/Sept
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SCATTERING morning fog bluejay scatters crows – silhouette 7/11
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ABOUT THE POET Dr. Jane Beal is a poet and professional writer. Born and raised in northern California, she received her BA (Sonoma State University), MA (Sonoma State University), and PhD (UC Davis) in English literature with concentrations in medieval literature, classical mythology, and the literature of the Bible. She has taught at Wheaton College and Colorado Christian University. She also has served families in childbirth in the Chicago, Denver and San Francisco metro areas as well as internationally in Uganda and the Philippines. In addition to Spiritual Aviary, she is the author of other poetry collections: Sanctuary, Made in the Image, Magical Poems, Tidepools, Love-Song, Butterflies, Epiphany: Birth Poems, A Pure Heart, Sunflower Songs and The Roots of Apples as well as her Birdwatcher Trilogy: The Bird-Watcher’s Diary Entries, Wild Birdsong and Jazz Birding. She has made three recording projects, Songs from the Secret Life, Love-Song, and, with her brother, saxophonist and composer Andrew Beal, The Jazz Bird. She also writes fiction, creative non-fiction and works of literary scholarship. To learn more, visit http://sanctuarypoet.net.
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“Those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.� Isaiah 40:31
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