Great blue heron at that bend in the creek
rose up in grace and silence
her long thin legs pointed like a dancer’s
broad wings making no sound at all
as they carried her away from me and my dogs.
I rebuked myself for not having anticipated
her presence in that particular spot.
She cannot know the depth of my love
and quickly deserts her post when
we come crashing along. Â
But I would like to hold her gently
stroke her long neck
meet her eye to eye
have her tell me all she knows
of life, loss, love
of egg and nest
water and sky
birth and flight
danger and calm
river, creek and avian mystery.
Our two knowledges are worlds apart.
But she with no desire to know of mine
will ever and always rush away.
December 9, 2011
4 thoughts on “December 9, 2011”
Leave a Reply
lovely thought!
Thanks, Lyn! They are so beautiful.
Kay, Michelle Gadbois thoughtfully posted your link and I have been reading your poems. They are lovely and express the ephemeral qualities of living in the moment. Such searing losses have undoubtedly honed your vision and evoked a refined ability to paint word pictures. I just read this haunting selection about the heron to my husband; he LOVED it as I do. I admire you for processing your grief in this way. Laying one’s insights vulnerably before the world is a courageous gift. Thank you for offering it. Please continue to write.
Cheryl, thank you so very much! I am so glad you’re enjoying the poems. It’s been such a wonderful process for me and I suddenly decided I wanted to share it. I’m glad the poems are well received.