#murmuration - Hello Poetry

blackbirds rise to grey october as they have and will, gathering in worshiping flocks growing in number, moving with one thought, as one body. they are in numbers such that the sound of wing and caw, blankets me below in the mystery that lies beneath the beauty, above both, the precision. and i stand struck with no question, mixed fear and gratitude, praising as them, the same god.

0

Sep 24, 2025

Sep 24, 2025 at 3:14 AM UTC

zdebb

a prayer of murmuration

blackbirds rise to grey october as they have and will, gathering in worshiping flocks growing in number, moving with one thought, as one body. they are in numbers such that the sound of wing and caw, blankets me below in the mystery that lies beneath the beauty, above both, the precision. and i stand struck with no question, mixed fear and gratitude, praising as them, the same god.

19

so well choreographed the performance spectacular shapes they perfectly make soaring up then dipping down this sky dance synchronized on a collective feather's take outstanding describes every single formation orchestrated with an amazing flight's wing over the countryside you'll see the murmuration on staying together it repels a falcon's ping utilizing the waving motion's code of sway unbalancing any hungry prey by such skill utmost this inventive pattern's display undulations devised in an expert drill the ballet on high is ever so terrific trooped starlings cleverly will bluff they'll outsmart predators prolific trancing them with adept birdie stuff

0

Mar 1, 2018

Mar 1, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Murmuration (Trolaan)

so well choreographed the performance spectacular shapes they perfectly make soaring up then dipping down this sky dance synchronized on a collective feather's take outstanding describes every single formation orchestrated with an amazing flight's wing over the countryside you'll see the murmuration on staying together it repels a falcon's ping utilizing the waving motion's code of sway unbalancing any hungry prey by such skill utmost this inventive pattern's display undulations devised in an expert drill the ballet on high is ever so terrific trooped starlings cleverly will bluff they'll outsmart predators prolific trancing them with adept birdie stuff

16

The snow, Whirls, Spins, And turns; Shapes in the air. A floating, flowing, fluidity; Such substance in something So diaphanous. A performance, Just as magical as The starlings They had watched At dusk By the pier. Swooping And gliding The birds Danced in the darkening sky. That erratic black cloud; Morphing, flowing, conjuring... Forming new dimensions While the glowing sun Balances precariously, Poised on the edge of the world And then Sinks, Into the sea, Leaving pink Goodbye kisses On the clouds. Now, Two figures are Stood by the window, Looking out and Watching The crystal dust drift Within the flow of the wind. A giant ghost's display of ballet; Spinning, twisting, turning... Leaning on each other In silence, In the darkness, The skies' cold ashes Sparkle In the night, Under the rays of the artificial Street light Outside. Soon the train will leave the station, Get further and further away... Settling in the west for longer than a day. Swallowed by the horizon. Physics in the way. She will freeze her face And wave, Borrowing a stoic's smile, Safely held together, Until within the veil Of the warm taxi home, Her eyes Melt.

0

Oct 16, 2017

Oct 16, 2017 at 9:07 AM UTC

victoria-rachael-nash

Drifters

The snow, Whirls, Spins, And turns; Shapes in the air. A floating, flowing, fluidity; Such substance in something So diaphanous. A performance, Just as magical as The starlings They had watched At dusk By the pier. Swooping And gliding The birds Danced in the darkening sky. That erratic black cloud; Morphing, flowing, conjuring... Forming new dimensions While the glowing sun Balances precariously, Poised on the edge of the world And then Sinks, Into the sea, Leaving pink Goodbye kisses On the clouds. Now, Two figures are Stood by the window, Looking out and Watching The crystal dust drift Within the flow of the wind. A giant ghost's display of ballet; Spinning, twisting, turning... Leaning on each other In silence, In the darkness, The skies' cold ashes Sparkle In the night, Under the rays of the artificial Street light Outside. Soon the train will leave the station, Get further and further away... Settling in the west for longer than a day. Swallowed by the horizon. Physics in the way. She will freeze her face And wave, Borrowing a stoic's smile, Safely held together, Until within the veil Of the warm taxi home, Her eyes Melt.

61