The Bluebird Word

An Online Literary Journal for Poetry and Flash

Tag: nature's joy

Photo by Patti Black on Unsplash

Breaking Open Joy

1 March 2023 /

Poetry by Stacie Eirich

Focus the flow, let the gentle waves glide and roll,
rippling across the velvet smooth surface
of sand. Feel the wind settle gently into twilight— golden, shimmering.

Find gentle respite in the cool relief of night,
welcome the peace of nature’s sounds, night’s embrace
of sleepful solace. Listen to the nightingale’s melody— golden, shimmering.

Follow the dawn into tomorrow, unloading grief and sorrow,
stress and struggle, letting happiness in, breaking open the boundaries
for joy. See it waiting in wings of light— golden, shimmering.

Stacie Eirich is a poet, singer & mother of two. Her poems have recently appeared in Last Leaves, The Journey (Paddler Press), Synkroniciti Magazine and Valiant Scribe Literary Journal, among others. Her home is near New Orleans, La; her heart is wherever a song can be found. www.stacieeirich.com

Photo by Tony Phan on Unsplash

lightning bugs

9 November 2022 /

Poetry by Caroline Randall

at the park, we sit at a picnic table beneath a tree, our faces disappearing in the wane of

daylight. the night is warm with a cooling wind and the scent of distant rain, but we are here,

beneath this tree, discussing the deer across the field and the amount of people still

in the park. we speak of lightning bugs and their absence, and as if summoned,

a single lightning bug glowed, then another, and another until I lost count of their

individual orbs, and i thought,

what kind of magic is this?

that led me beneath this tree?

that brought me to you?

Caroline Randall is a writer and painter living in Louisville, Kentucky. She holds an MFA and a BFA in creative writing from California College of the Arts and Spalding University, respectively. She currently proofs and edits court transcripts for a living.

crop field under rainbow and cloudy skies at dayime
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

The Heart Unfurled

27 September 2022 /

Poetry by Karen Luke Jackson

                           for Juniper

Her skirt billows as she skips the graveled lane,
        chases a squirrel across the lawn

               and up a flaming maple, tumbles
into a hammock which swallows her curls,

        swaddles her legs, this fawn-eyed child
               with a page-boy cut who bubbles song.

                                   Somehow her heart knows
        that she, too, belongs         here

               with the redwing blackbird
                                 whose call she returns,

               with the wooly worm
                                 she cheers across the road.

Karen Luke Jackson draws inspiration for her writing from oral history, nature, and clowning. Her poems have appeared in Ruminate, Broad River Review (Ron Rash Poetry Award), Ruminate, One, Atlanta Review, and Channel Magazine. The author of two poetry collections, Karen resides in the Blue Ridge Mountains. www.karenlukejackson.com

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