DAILY MUSE | I love this poem, its imagery and the pure sound of it. Take some time today for yourself and speak the poem aloud. Really… you’ll see what I mean when you hear the sound of it.
THE WINDHOVER
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 sweep 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: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.-Gerard Manley Hopkins
(Thanks to my friend Karen for sharing it with me.)
Click here for a general introduction to TODAY’S MUSE.
THE DAILY MUSE 