Poetry Friday round-up is with Catherine at Reading to the Core
Brenda Davis Harsham posted a ten word prompt in Laura Shovan’s Facebook Project (which is currently open for new members). The words came from an article in The New York Times about Maria Callas and the opera Tosca. I sent it to my mother who is a musician and huge fan of opera. I asked her, “Did I ever see Tosca?” She responded that she had taken me as a child.
I listened to the recordings embedded in the online article, but nothing sounded too familiar. I did not inherit the same love of opera, I’m afraid.
But the article, the email conversation with Mom, and the ten words that Brenda selected led me to this poem:
My mother took me to see Tosca
when I was too young
to know tragedy.I listened with ears of youth
tuning in to the crazy chords
that flowed in and out
like murmuring birds.How fragile a single soprano note
hangs on a nightingale’s wing.
The song can wake you
alive to wonder about the night.The night where silence
plants seeds deep into the soil,
where raw buds feign sleep
waiting for the light of dawn.Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
Reflections on the Teche 
Beautiful. I like the trimmed version. I have a snow day today. Maybe I will go back and listen to those clips. I’ve never been much of an opera fan. But, I never learned how to be, either.
What a rapturous response poem to the Tosca recordings Margaret, you sure are hearing the nightingales singing now, especially in this passage,
“where raw buds feign sleep
waiting the light of dawn.”
Thanks!
“listened with ears of youth” – isn’t that just the way we have to start! The appreciation has to develop, and what the young hear, without the background life to make it fuller, changes the hearing and the depth of meaning. It just means it is beautiful on a different level. But don’t you wish sometimes you could appreciate all things to their fullest ALL the time! Even at this age we are still youthful in many things.
Love this, Margaret! Not only makes me want to hear Tosca but to reconnect with some old memories (and writing) about early encounters with the arts. Thank you!
Lovely images. I have not listened to the recording clip yet, but “the night where silence plants seeds deep into the soil,” has so many possibilities, not just related to opera. Now I’ll be thinking of the silence of night differenty, thanks.
oh that note hanging on a nightingale’s wing! Thanks to your mother, opera lives inside you, whether you realize it or not. xo
I have never been a fan of opera, but I am always in awe of the skill and talent these singers have. The image of a soprano’s note hanging on a nightingale’s wind is just perfect!
I love this poem, Margaret. Your image of seeds, literal and figurative, “waiting for the light of dawn” is perfect. I haven’t kept up with the 10 word poetry prompts, but this intrigues me. You can see Tosca through the Met’s Live in HD series later this month. (https://www.fathomevents.com/series/the-met-live-in-hd) Colette and I have been going to these performances for several years now. In addition to amazing performances, they take you behind the scenes during intermission so you learn about the sets, costumes, etc. It’s a fun way to spend a Saturday afternoon!
I’m not sure if I only see the poem as a ‘growing up’ response, but I love it as that, Margaret. When I taught those middle-school students I felt they were as you wrote, “waiting for the light of dawn”. Of course, now, the grand-girls, younger, don’t quite know there is going to be light ahead, but they are the ‘raw bulbs” asleep. Beautiful poem with the words, from Tosca.
I am loving the different interpretations of my poem. I was actually writing from a dark place but love that there is light shining through.
This is just gorgeous: How fragile a single soprano note
hangs on a nightingale’s wing.
The song can wake you
alive to wonder about the night.
I feel like this poem is reaching towards the mysterious side of how memory operates.
Margaret, it’s amazing how some memories from childhood are not readily available. Through research, you were able to create a wonderful found poem with these great lines:
How fragile a single soprano note
hangs on a nightingale’s wing.
I read your response that you were in a dark place when you wrote this. I would have never thought this.
Opera is as foreign to me as the ocean. But your poem about a forgotten childhood experience and the seeds it may have planted…to that I can totally relate!
Margaret, this is wonderful! I struggled a bit with those 10 words and got nowhere. I love that you persisted and crafted such a beautiful poem. Like so many others I was entranced by that single soprano note hanging on a nightingale’s wing. Glorious image!
I tried working my way through the article you posted the other day, but alas, I didn’t make it. My experience with opera is very limited. I saw Firebird at Lincoln Center and I believe, Oedipus Rex. However, I can recommend a movie about opera! Cosi (from 1996), starring Toni Collette.
Sorry you were in a dark place while writing your poem, but I can tell things have brightened up.
I love how poetry can help us move out into the light.
Beautiful! I don’t have much experience with opera (Do the old Bugs Bunny cartoons that included music from operas count), but I would love to experience on one day. Your poem is an invitation.