Song by Seamus Heaney
.
A rowan like a lipsticked girl.
Between the by-road and the main road
Alder trees at a wet and dripping distance
Stand off among the rushes.
.
There are the mud-flowers of a dialect
And the immortelles of perfect pitch
And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens.
very thought provoking
The Music of What Happens . . . when I read that line, I recognized it . . . but so often I recognize lines from poetry because I read a LOT of it for my own morning note that I send and repeat in a blog, but I could see those words on the spine of a book. Sure enough it’s the title of a book by Helen Vendler, that talks about poems and poets and even critics. I learned a lot from that book and over the years have read parts of it again, looking for more understanding, so it was like a feeling of coming home to see it there, at the end of the poem you chose. The book has a section on the work of Seamus Heaney, including his early work mostly about nature, which I have always loved. Thank you for sharing this vivid poem!