When I come across a poem I love, I will write it in my journal. “A Timbered Choir” by Wendell Berry is a poem I never want to forget. I think it is my all-time favorite poem if I had to chose one. Forgive my little scribbles and messy handwriting but I felt it more fun to share this way then to just type it out here. But if you really want to experience this poem, please scroll down to the link below to hear Berry read it for himself!
Wendell Berry himself reads his beautiful poem in the video made by Laura Dunn posted in the link below. The video is the trailer for the film “Look & See: A Portrait of Wendell Berry”. The film itself is beautifully made and relaxing and an interesting portrait of the author and farmer’s life. Do have a listen to the trailer, you won’t regret it:
Look & See Trailer by Laura Dunn on Vimeo
After watching it, I am sure you understand why this poem has been echoing in my mind lately. The cadence of his voice and the powerful images in the video are captivating, important, real, and stopped me in my tracks. I’ve listened to his voice read “The Timbered Choir” over and over. I intend to read a lot more of Wendell Berry’s work.
Is it too early to be dreaming of spring? I don’t think so. The sun is around so much longer these days. It’s really just around the corner. I found this poem on one of my favorite websites (This Ivy House) this morning, and I love how spring is expressed in it. I wanted to share it with you, my faithful readers (all 2 of you! 🙂 haha). So here is an excerpt from To Jane: The Invitation by Percy Bysshe Shelley via the Poetry Foundation.
Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the Earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea,
And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains,
And breathed upon the frozen mountains,
And like a prophetess of May
Strewed flowers upon the barren way,
Making the wintry world appear
Like one on whom thou smilest, dear.
Away, away, from men and towns,
To the wild wood and the downs—
To the silent wilderness
Where the soul need not repress
Its music lest it should not find
An echo in another’s mind.
While the touch of Nature’s art
Harmonizes heart to heart.
It’s time for hearthside,
radiates warmth to our bones.
It’s time for bare trees,
the leaves free
swirling straight back to the earth.
It’s time for inside,
the home time
we use to declutter our minds.
It’s time for dreaming,
the cold nights
hold us so soundly asleep.
It’s time for November.
I embrace her
for bringing us back to this time.