in June’s stillness
alabaster plumes balance above
narrow ebony legs below:
harmony in the pond’s shallows.
pure and strong, she is
Mother Egret wading
showy, snowy in a black pool.
the ancients and astronomers
bred discourtesy
when no heavenly constellation
was chosen for her –
she is both star and syncopation,
a white light scarcely swaying
in June’s stillness.
her feathers tether
the physical and the spiritual,
water and air,
bird and brethren and believer.
if only i could join her Congregation.
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I love the sweetness and cadence of this poem. Beautiful!