Monday, April 12, 2010

Some Herons - April 12, 2010

A blue preacher

flew toward the swamp,

in slow motion.

On the leafy banks,

and old Chinese poet,

hunched in the white gown of his wings,

was waiting...

The preacher

made his difficult landing,

his skirts up around his knees.

The poet's eyes

flared, just as poet's eyes

are said to do

when the poet is awakened

from the forest of meditation...

They greeted each other,

rumpling their gowns for an instant,

and then smoothing them.

They entered the water,

and instantly two more herons-

equally as beautiful-

joined them and stood jut beneath them

in the black, published water

where they fished, all day.

I imagine myself, approaching a pond in New England, and discover that Mary is sitting on the bank, watching the water. She is disturbed by my presence, me with my robes of organized church swirling around my head and in my head, thoughts of "maybe this will preach." Is she so different, as she studies bird and fish, wondering "maybe this will make a good poem." Either way we are both fishing for beauty, for answers, and perhaps even more so, for questions. Whatever we catch, we are no different than those up river, down river, across the river, in the river and above the river. We all go down to the river to pray.

If herons are poets and preachers, what are ospreys? Eagles? Ducks? Cranes? What are you?

1 comment:

  1. Eagles are Treasurers in charge of currency.
    Ducks float a loan.
    Cranes wade into unknown territory.
    Ospreys skim the profits off.
    I'm the Owl who keeps them all honest and watches the beauty of co-operation between them. When questions arise, I'll refer them to you.