Sunrise

Sunrise
Sunrise on Sunset Beach

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Heron in the Wood

Athens, Georgia
February 14, 2011; revised
See also Heron World.

We loved that bird – how once 

he’d launch his four-foot frame 

to glide above the mud and pools, 


weathered rocks and rotting logs.

How once he’d stand amid the muck 

plucking silver shards of life.


So what compelled his final flight 

from river banks that gave him life 

to the hush of lowland woods?


Some will claim birds have no soul 

(some say the same of you and me), 

but say not knowing one bird well. 


Do you not sense a presence 

more than hollow bones 

and handsome feathers? 


Can you see through dimming eyes 

of a wild bird waiting in the woods 

for what must come in morning 


shadows where love and resignation 

forge bonds beyond kind? 

Silver feathers grace the ground 


that launched his soul to final flight

to soar above what lies behind 

on woodland floor and in my mind.


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