Mockingbird Good Night

April 21, 2016.  Another rainy day.  But last night for several hours, the moon was in full view.  My favorite moon view is in the front yard, from under the live oak – always a bit of repositioning required as both tree and moon are variables.  Last night I stood on the walkway where earlier in the day lichen debris had clued us to a mockingbird nest fairly well camouflaged.  Nesting materials downed by all this rain?  Or Mama busy decluttering? Pleasing to know she was near, settled, as I stood moon-gazing.

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September 30, 2015.  I’m always startled by questions such as “What do you mean by mindful poetry?” and “How do you start a poem?”  Perhaps this poem can serve as answer.  This one wrote itself while I was reading snippets from Joseph Campbell and Clarissa Pinkola Estes included in an essay on mythology, art, and poetry by Richard Rohr.  My pencil just took off!   There’s no defining what triggers the poetic response, but I offer this description of the “practice” that follows.

This mockingbird seems to be doing his own reflecting.  I followed the sound of his voice while on the campus of St. Edwards University, here in Austin, in October 2014.  When I found him, he abruptly stopped singing and seemed to pose for quite a while.  Posing was my perception at the time.  It’s just as possible he was reflecting on the large intrusion into his time and space that my camera and I represented.  Did he savor the interruption?  After, did he sing little camera-click songs?  I wonder …

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