Her gift is in sheer artistry of shrill,
a fluent flutery, creative lilt.
No nearby bird is like her, can command
such fluid repertoire of warbling sound,
notesong. The beauty makes you stand and listen, still
as any oak: the last time that you felt
such inspiration was in early youth.
First Mozart, maybe? Even that did not
quite penetrate like this performance. Leaves;
blue brook; are speaking their midsummer truth,
their shimmering and bubbling froth, through her!
Her sunwashed notes make something start to stir
within not felt before. Her deep song thieves
your Reason, leaves you with the infinite.
© Lee Slonimsky, 2023
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