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.
The Course of Our Seasons 
i love to muse with my Irish heritage… and those red-wings are the first signs of spring for me… a call of new life for me
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!
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.
*sigh* uniquely beautiful, this. your poetry is always a delight to read and re-read, Kathleen.
Yelena, thank you so much for your sweet comment – that means a great deal.
Wow! I didn’t know where this journey through your words would lead me too from the outset but it was well worth the journey.
Cheers,
Mark Butkus
” 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…..
Beautiful imagery that sings at you … Nice autumnal hymn of praise.
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
Thank you, dear Joe, for such a gracious comment. In the wild beauty of this land, one can not help but be moved to sing, to write, to paint.
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.
I love the ending most specially ~ The words and language may be foreign but the melodies resonate in our hearts ~ Have a good week Kathleen ~
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.
this is a flawless merge of music and nature in late October… Beautiful write.
Music and nature comes together.. The words are really not needed, it’s like nature adds the lyric to the melody or the melody to the lyrics.
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 fall..in Ozark Autumn.. perhaps it is genetic memory.. or maybe synchronicity.. but the music of other languages.. often ring deep..in my soul too.. a deja vu.. of nostalgia of a time lost and never fully remembered..:)true…best spoken in poetry too!..;)
Thanks so much!
autumn psalter..love that title and there is something holy about the song of the wind in those autumn leaves… beautiful capture of the moment kathleen
Groovy piece. Loved the last stanza.
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…
I love that red winged blackbird….and, especially, “I listen to the harmony
of the north wind singing thru the thicket of yellowing trees.” Just beautiful.
Hi Sherry – thanks so much – have you been to your hearts true home? hope all is well – we are holding our own –