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#Birdsong quote
gennsoup · 1 month
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Sun makes the day new. Tiny green plants emerge from earth. Birds are singing the sky into place. There is nowhere else I want to be but here. I lean into the rhythm of your heart to see where it will take us.
Joy Harjo, For Keeps
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swordheld · 5 months
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hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
#q&a.#birdsong.#wishing u gentle ease; the death of a loved one is near inexplicable to put into words and i hope you take care of yourself gently <3#i hope this will make u laugh: when i was a tiny child in middle school there were times i would go outside in my tiny suburban cul de sac-#in the rain and sing along to my lil ipod nano and i only remember doing this to drops of jupiter. can you imagine going out to get the mai#after a long day of work and you just hear this kid singing train in the streets. in the RAIN.... it makes me laugh like i really.#i really thought i was so cool and deep and emotional ghjkd but i find it v funny that i only remember it w/ that one train track.#and saturn just. it's my fav s.a.l. song for a reason. that slow violin opening? the piano coming in gentle and easy?#it feels like light. like hope. like something new - a dawn after the long dark. that beautiful things can begin again even where#it hurts. and there is nothing more human than a sentiment like that.#how rare and beautiful it is to truly exist. what it is to be alive and get to be here and live with other people. with those we love.#i think your grandfather was so lucky to be able to know you. to have you in his life for the time you had together.#i'm no spiritual person; but i like to believe when you're thinking about him? he's thinking about you too.#the second law of thermodynamics (physics nerd mode) is that no energy has ever been created/destroyed since the beginning of the universe.#so it has to go somewhere - it's that carl sagan quote of 'we're all made of stardust'. because we are. we used to be stars; planets; etc.#i think it's why i think of these space songs - because they're a part of everything; once more; when they go. us and everything else.
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technofinch · 4 days
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Al's great-grandfather was a wagon-builder by trade. If he hadn't spent so much time making violins and playing with his children, he might have made a living at it.
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olmoonlight · 1 year
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💚 I would like to live in this beautiful place, in this small house, where there is no city bustle, people. Where it's quiet and peaceful, I'd like to...
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sarademian · 1 year
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BIRDSONG (2012) dir. Philip Martin
Waiting for "Freud's Last Session" 🧠👁🛋️
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howifeltabouthim · 2 years
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The garden was airily green, a little misty, a little hazy, and innumerable birds were making a great network of sweet noise.
Iris Murdoch, from The Philosopher’s Pupil
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I do not know how long the song lasted. I came back to the Great Hall and the gathered nobles of the Six Duchies as if I had been on a long journey. Starling sat before her tall harp, her head bent forward and her brow resting on its dark wood. Her face glowed with perspiration. She breathed as if she had run over nine hills. I stared at her. She had been a stranger, a lover, a nemesis, and a betrayer to me. And now she was my historian.
When the applause came, it began as a whisper and rose to a roar. Starling lifted her head slowly and I followed her gaze as she looked around at the faces of her audience. Tears tracked down the faces of many, and anger sat on some. I saw a stony-faced woman sneer at the emotion of the lady next to her. Another noble shook his head and leaned close to whisper to his companion. Two young women were embracing each other, overcome with the romance of the story. The Duchess of Bearns hugged herself tight, her clasped hands under her chin, her head bent over her hands. The Duke of Rippon appeared to be telling the people around him, "I knew it. I always knew it," as his big hands beat against each other.
And I? How to describe that vindication? I stood among them, unknown and unseen, but feeling as if we had finally come home, my wolf and I. I felt a sharp pang that the Fool had not been here to hear this, and realized I was trembling, as if I had come in from somewhere very cold and was shaking as the warmth finally came back into my body. I was not weeping, and yet the water ran from my eyes until I could scarcely see.
Fool's Quest, by Robin Hobb (Fitz and the Fool Trilogy #2)
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whats-in-a-sentence · 7 months
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At the same moment the nightingale, satisfied at last with his tuning up, burst into full song.
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"The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" - C. S. Lewis
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candlesoul · 2 years
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how to be an artist, jerry saltz
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redhandedjournals · 10 months
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poem I wrote for my BirdMan collection of poetry.
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palatinewolfsblog · 2 years
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The Bird (for the Women of Iran) ...
"Hope is the Bird that feels the Light and sings when the Dawn is still dark."
Rabinandrath Tagore.
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j-august · 1 year
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What did he think of the poems of Uwe Berger, the poetry circle leader, I asked. Knauer ordered a second beer. Hard to digest, he said. Almost illegible. Too much content, too little poetry. Poetry, said Knauer, was the sound of a little bird singing. But Berger didn't want to hear birdsong, he wanted every poem to sound like the Internationale.
Philip Oltermann, The Stasi Poetry Circle
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qqweebird · 8 months
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“ppl who quote tiktok sounds all the time are sooo annoying” if you are around the age of 25-30 i would like to see your youtube search history circa october 2017
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tenth-sentence · 8 months
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The song may be compared to that of the Sedge warbler, but is more powerful; some harsh notes and some very high ones, being mingled with a pleasant warbling.
"Journal of Researches into the Natural History and Geology of the Countries Visited During the Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle Round the World, 1832-36" - Charles Darwin
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starhvney · 4 days
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ackk i hate sending you this becuz i know you are stacked in requests;;; but i cant help but ask if you would be interested in a zenix fic (pdh) where both he and reader have a crush on each other but they are scared to admit it
so reader or him confesses in a round about way (example: reader describes zenix as their crush without outright saying his name, so when zenix finally realizes who you were talking about, it clicks in his head that you have a crush on him) ueueueueu sorry for dumping a request on your pile!!
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𝐌𝐄?
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh zenix x fem!reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while he teaches you how to skateboard, you let your little crush slip out like the wheels from under your feet
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, friends to more, mutual/returned feelings
𝐂𝐖: cussing
𝐀/𝐍: one time i tried to go roller skating and i busted my ass so hard my tailbone hurt for a whole week and i haven’t attempted any sort of balancing on wheels since
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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there’s no one left in the skate park as the light begins to fade from the sky. nearby street lamps turn on and birdsong transitions into the chirping of crickets. the air feels damp and electric as dark clouds cover the sky like a blanket.
“i think it’s gonna rain,” zenix mutters, squinting up to find no moon in the sky.
you stare at his face, observing every feature and flaw as his focus remains up above. when he gets no response from you he tilts his head back down, face wrinkling at you in confused annoyance.
“hello? did you just go brain-dead or some shit?” he questions, making you lightly shake your head and pretend to snap out of zoning out. 
“i was just thinking about… someone.”
you miss how his face nearly flinches at your words, his frown deepening as his arched eyebrows flatten in disappointment.
“someone?” he quotes you, scoffing as he tries to play off the drop in his mood. “no wonder you keep messing up, having you been thinking about some… crush of yours this whole time?”
you don’t miss the jealous intonation in his voice, however, making a strange confidence brew in you. 
“maybe…” you trail, steadying yourself back on the skateboard below you by once again holding on to zenix’s arms.
you’re sure by now that you could probably at least balance yourself on the board on your own, but he doesn’t have to know that. your leading foot shifts as you position yourself to push off. you look back up at him with a confused frown, however, when he takes a step back away from you. 
“nah, i’m not gonna hold your hands this time, try and do it on your own,” he shrugs, hands dropping to his sides as he stares down at your uncertain feet.
despite the uncaring nonchalance that he tried to display, he walked alongside you as you slowly and clumsily attempted to skate forward on your own.
“i’m doing it!” you cheer, pumping your fists in celebration and consequentially losing your balance.
you brace yourself as the board slips out from beneath your feet, expecting broken skin and bruises in a second. instead, zenix quickly reacts, arms shooting forward and hooking under yours. your face meets his chest instead of the concrete, an alternative that was much more welcome in your book. 
“that thing’s a death machine,” you mutter in embarrassment as he lifts you to your feet.
“or you’re too busy thinking about some stupid crush rather than balancing,” he mutters. “or you’re just uncoordinated as hell. or both.”
“hey!” you frown, lips forming into a pout.
before you can protest against his bullying, you feel a large droplet land on your face. and then your shoulder. and then your head. zenix groans, muttering a “told you it was gonna rain” before kicking up the board and waving for you to follow him back to his car.
between the time you two left where you stood and ran to the entrance of the parking garage, the sprinkling of rain turned into a downpour. zenix’s fluffy brown hair had flattened, droplets of rain dripping down his now heavy curls. as you two make your way to the garage elevator, he shakes his head in your direction, flinging water onto you.
“that’s so not cool.”
he only snickers in response, hitting the button to head up. the elevator button doesn’t respond, and you both awkwardly stare at it as you wait for the sound of the elevator moving to meet your ears. after a few seconds of silence, he presses the button again, groaning and spamming the dead button as if it will do anything.
“great,” he sighs, turning to the door that leads to the staircase instead. “guess we’re walking up a couple floors.”
he tugs on the metal door and is met with a dull thunk as the lock clashes against the threshold.
“you got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans, turning back to you with a glare when you laugh at his exasperation.
“guess we have to go up the long way,” you shrug, hugging your cold, wet arms as you begin to hike up the incline to the second floor.
zenix stares at you for a moment, eyebrow raised at your optimism before he trudges on beside you.
“who’s this person you have a crush on, anyway?” he questions suddenly, avoiding eye contact with you and instead focusing on the graffitied concrete next to you.
you bite your lip, staring up ahead.
“he’s really cool. i think, at least.”
zenix rolls his eyes, groaning at your less-than-vague description.
“thanks for the description, i can really picture him in my head now,” he sarcastically drones.
“what do you want to know about him?” you laugh, heart thudding unevenly against your rib cage.
“i really don’t care as much as you think,” he scoffs, making you frown as he stubbornly looks away. “…do i know him?”
“uhh… yeah.”
“but you’re not gonna tell me his name?”
“…no. you have to guess.”
he groans, rubbing his eyes as he finally looks at you in exasperation.
“guess based on the scraps you’ve given me?”
“okay! i’ll give you some hints,” you nervously concede, raising your hands in surrender. “um… he’s in your grade.”
zenix frowns, jaw clenching as he concentrates.
“he has brown hair, and these really pretty eyes.”
a poorly concealed sigh.
“and… he likes the same music as me…”
a glance in your direction.
“he likes to skateboard.”
was he always walking so close to you?
“and he skips class a lot.”
you two are almost near his car now, but you find yourself trapped between him and the concrete barrier next to you as his arms trap you from walking any further. you look up at him, his face close and expression serious as he stares you down. from this close you can concentrate on the red tint both in his hair and his eyes, and how a stray rain droplet had slowly began to drip down the slope of his nose.
“tell me who you’re talking about.”
your eyes shyly drift down to his lips.
“guess.”
he doesn’t answer you with words. instead, he dips down, hesitantly brushing his lips against yours. you push forward, meeting him in a kiss with the noise of the rain and your heartbeat rushing in your ears. the kiss is surprisingly soft and unsure, something sweet that you wouldn’t have expected from the boy.
slowly he pulls back, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at you slack-jawed.
“me?”
“what gave it away?”
“you’re stupid.”
you giggle, and his lips upturn in a rare soft smile.
“…i like you too,” he mutters, pulling you into a hug to hide his embarrassment at the confession.
while you can’t see his face, you can feel his heated cheek warm up the cold skin on your neck. both of your damp hair sticks to your skin, not helping how you were now chilled to the bone. 
you shiver into the hug, making zenix sigh under his breath. he reluctantly pulls away, shrugging off his thick zip-up and wrapping it around your trembling shoulders.
“come on, i’ll drive you home.”
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.
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noosphe-re · 7 months
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A Quadratic Equation
Voice: the breath's tooth. Thought: the brain's bone. Birdsong: an extension of the beak. Speech: the antler of the mind.
— Robert Bringhurst
(from Selected Poems by Robert Bringhurst, and quoted in David Abram's Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology)
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