It is always exciting and a bit nerve wracking to get a commission for a poem. Can I do it? Will the person or organisation who has requested it like it? Can I write something that will please both them and me?
A while back, I was asked to write a poem about the starling murmuration in Belfast. The poem would be part of a larger project set up by the creative company, Quotidian, and was to culminate in an augmented reality display, a launch and readings in Lanyon Place train station, just opposite to where the birds roosted at night. A great place to watch the their ariel displays.
Problem was that when I started to research the topic I discovered that the starlings had left Belfast. The new lighting installed by the council to provide brighter streets for pedestrians had disturbed the starling flock and they had moved away from their roosts beneath the Albert Bridge. So the poem at once became something different. I decided to both celebrate the wonder of the murmuration – and mourn its loss. Here is the result.
Lost from the Luminous City
Dark beaks, short tails,
pointed heads, triangular wings,
feathered black with shimmering sheens
of purple and petrol green, colours
iridesce, an impossible midnight rainbow,
dark and velvety.
Gregarious and garrulous, each
a boisterous carbon copy of the other,
collective fragments of the one flock
feasting on insects and farmers’ crops
before returning to their roosts
beneath the Albert Bridge,
chattering and clattering, raucous
soundtrack for weary workers
on winter evenings, heading home
under the ordinary magic;
fluid choreography of funnels,
ribbons, spills, mixing, ever moving,
swirling and pulsating, wildly twisting
as if some extraordinary brush is inking
the blue dusk of sky with nature’s calligraphy,
geometric to organic, material to ethereal,
reality to dream, endless flux of wonderment
to bafflement: the starling murmuration. Gone.
In some good news, shortly after the poem was written and events held in the train station, and after pressure from various ecology organisations, the council adjusted the lighting and now the birds are starting to return. I like to imagine that the poem helped in some small way!