By Nicholas Hooper

It chatters and scolds from a tree somewhere,
making the occasional signature downward glissando
this bird that I cannot see.

It stands proud of my garden like a thought that cannot be found:
a troubled thought, a beautiful thought,
a thought that interrupts but disappears before I can see exactly what it is.

Perhaps it will come to a bird feeder?
But no! Goldfinches, chaffinches, bluetits, great tits, long-tailed tits, robins, dunnocks, jackdaws, and even the great raven, come to feed.

But the greenfinch stays aloof, high in a tree,
known only by its rasping, swooping cry
like a thought that will not be found.



About Dawnings:
“Every morning at around 5am I get up and go down to my studio. After a short meditation I write down whatever is in my head, giving myself fifteen minutes to do so. Then moving over to the piano (or a more portable instrument like my Ukulele when I'm away), I improvise and record a piece of music inspired by whatever words I just wrote. It is a great way of keeping both my writing and my composing going and I call these small creations Dawnings. They are mostly unedited, like sketches, so that they keep that fresh feeling of an early morning discovery.”

— Nick Hooper