Wood Song

Wood Thrush bestI first picked up a collection of Sara Teasdale’s poems while wandering through the bookstalls at the Seattle Center in my early twenties.  I opened the book at random and read the following poem … put the book back … and walked on.  It took about ten steps before the impact of that poem — at a low moment in my life — hit me.  Hurrying back and finding the book, I searched it until I found the page again.  I bought the book.  Well-worn, it sits on my shelf today.  Over the years, the poetry of Sara Teasdale has been the literary soundtrack of many important moments in my life.  Just in case you’re ever low . . .
 __________________________________ Lisa Riska, Site Director

Be lifted by Sara Teasdale

 Wood Song

I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
   Twirl three notes and make a star —
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.

Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call —
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.

___

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