Stillness Gloriously Interrupted by Intimations of Immortality
The mockingbird soars up through song at night.
The darkness swells with music suddenly
Or sound at least. The night time turns to bright
Notes, melodies and chirrs. So, sudden, he
Transposes night to daytime brilliance of
A nearly ceaseless composition made
Of bits and pieces improvised above
The quiet night. Cadenza-like his braid
Of notes he pulls from everywhere, his foes
And noises all around that he has heard
In days and dawns and evenings. Singing glows
A gurgling while. The dragging night is stirred.
And then comes stillness. His melodious strife
Reminds us of infinity in life.
~ Phillip Whidden