MURMURATIONS OF LOVE, GRIEF AND STARLINGS
I wrote the first draft of this poem in January 2014, during three sleepless nights in the house in Liguria which I described in Thin Paths. I told myself about the recent death of my husband, the love we had shared, the events of our last days together and the enormity of my loss. The poem comforted me through a dark time.
Later and quite by chance, a friend showed me a series of photographs he had taken of the murmurations of starlings during two evenings on the marshes at Walberswick in December 2013, just after the storm surge that caused such devastation to the land and the wild life along the East Anglian coast.
The mysterious and profound language of swirling shape and movement created by this mass of birds against the colours of the evening sky, gave a form to thoughts beyond the reach of words and so I rewrote the poem to include the starlings:
The way they pull between a celebration of living
And an intimation of things unseen…..
Starlings make me able to believe
That everything will be alright
In its own way
And that is good to know
-If it is knowing -
Perhaps it is more to do with trust.