The Way Home

The Pied Wagtail — Poem I/XVI

Photo © Diana Dolea

I

(Tsitt) Know, my slender Tree, I come to you to find an organic meal, yet my wings have lost their way, so far from the earthy home. In your silent limbs, no noise but stillness I feel — so fold me in your leafy tenderness as I (tsitt) roam.

II

(Mm-mm) Know, Mum, I come to heal my broken stride, yet my tired legs have lost their way, far from your spoken choice. And being muted, the stream mirrors all my rising tide — so find my spirit with your haunting (mm-mm) voice.

III

(Tsitt) How now, my young Heart? I hear your burning cry! Your weeping echoes, calling me so near inside. But starved I am beneath this empty sky, then let me ask: why do not you fly into the open (tsitt) clear?

IV

(Mm-mm) I see you now! Here, my lovely songbird, take my bread. This said, I am not hungry, only sad. I wish to move my legs as your tail has stirred, and fly with oars of the air from arms I wish I (mm-mm) had.

Poet — And there! A bird in flight is kissed by a child, moving its tail, up and down, against the gray. Returning to her Mother within the light, the child now moves her arms in the selfsame way. We know not if her heart is a Wagtail now; yet up and down, up and down, her spirit sings — calling to every lost offspring from the bough, and signing a blessing with her imaginary wings.

Author’s note:

Hi, beautiful souls! 🌹 I’m embarking on a personal poetic project: a 16-part series of poems dedicated to birds. Over the next few weeks, I hope to share them all here on Scrittura, with the kind support of our editors.

This first poem is inspired by the Pied Wagtail (Motacilla alba), a beautiful bird named for the constant, rhythmic wagging of its long tail. I was captivated by a piece of folklore which holds that if you ever lose your way, encountering a Wagtail will guide you safely home.

Diana Dolea © 2026