Stirred for a Bird

photo by Kate Steensma
photo of a young kestrel falcon by Kate Steensma

The Windhover
To Christ Our Lord

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing.

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
~Gerard Manley Hopkins

photo by Kate Steensma
photo by Kate Steensma
photo by Kate Steensma
photo by Kate Steensma

 

One thought on “Stirred for a Bird

  1. This entire post is delightful, Emily.
    Steensma’s pics are beautiful and clear. Love the little falcon.

    Hopkins’ poetry is sometimes very difficult to understand but I like it- just takes a little adjustment to the flowery Victorian language and not a few trips to the dictionary or to a website that interprets poetry.
    What a tragic life he had. Reminds me of the lifelong sorrow of Henri Nouwen. Such suffering manifested itself in the writing that both men did. What a beautiful legacy they have left us. (I’m thinking, too, of Oscar Wilde. His tragic poem, Ballad of Reading Gaol, written in prison, almost tears my heart out with its pathos.)

    Like

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