Autumn Psalter

Octobers Lament

Listening to Welsh songs on NPR
on a gray October morning-
a language so foreign
yet melodies familiar
as the coffee in my blue mug
and the call of the red winged blackbird
as it pierces the early dawn air
from yellowing woods across the cove.

In what ancient hills were these songs
first sung? What gray skies
heard first these lilting tunes?
Sailing so far away from their birth and home
to emerge in these steep ridges
and deep shadowy hollows of Ozarks autumn.

I listen to the harmony
of the north wind singing
thru the thicket of yellowing trees.

22 thoughts on “Autumn Psalter

  1. This is wondeful, Kathleen. Yes, sometimes I wonder as well about the music I am listening to….especially classical music. I have been listening to more NPR music as well. Relaxing and good for my soul, I think. And, oh, what a beautiful photo!

  2. This is a very good poem, Kathleen. I enjoyed the scene you showed at the beginning. I am not familiar with Welsh songs but I have been to Wales and know it is famous for its male choirs. Your poem makes me want to know more about them.

  3. ” a language so foreign
    yet melodies familiar” – that is such a lovely thought – and I feel the same way when I occasionally play music in a language that I don’t know. You talk about the music of nature – which is the purest form, I believe…..

  4. What is it about the Ozarks that inspires such art? You express your impressions of the natural music of your home by seamlessly showing us the gorgeous change of seasonal scenes. ~ j

  5. This is beautiful, every bit. Yes, I have a soft spot for Welsh things, but this poem goes right to the universals of music, memories, nature.

  6. Ah, those Welsh voices – I remember hearing once that everyone in Wales can sing! It is amazing how music travels across continents – I often hear familiar strains in other countries and hear of historical connections from centuries ago.

  7. Ahh.. Kathleen we meet again.. and you are last on the list one more time.. and your words here truly speak of the beauty of Ozark Autumn.. perhaps it is genetic memory.. or maybe synchronicity.. but the music of other languages.. often ring my soul too.. a deja vu.. of nostalgia of a time lost and never fully remembered..:)true…best spoken in poetry too!..;)

  8. its cool…where the songs came from…i wonder if the wind did not inspire them in the first place…and having heard them we took to song….perhaps nature drew song from us…

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