Lacy Arnett Mayberry is a writer, reader, and cacti lover. In addition to sporadically updating this blog, she co-hosts The Postmasters Podcast: Writing & Life After the MFA. She won the 2014 AWP Writing Conferences and Centers prize for fiction and is managing editor for BorderSenses Literary & Arts Journal. Her work has appeared in Literary Mama, Better: Culture & Lit, Tammy, Permafrost, and LunaLuna.
And now, for the blog’s namesake: Gerard Manley Hopkins‘ poem The Windhover. Because if you don’t already have a crush on this man’s language, you should get one.
I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.