I looked up to see the heron glide
through the sky’s door
and my eyes traced the slate wings
until they disappeared beyond
the crown of cottonwood trees.
In those instants of gazing,
a lifetime? I lifted up, felt my self
as bird, a miracle of flight,
a mastery of wing,
untethered, a cageless thing.
Now I look up, as if by looking
I might induce a return—
see the long crooked neck pulling
the great bird like gray thread
through a blue weave of sky.
I am wanting more lessons
in wing, but the sky unfolds only more sky,
and so I must learn from emptiness—
to quiet, to open, to clear,
to connect in this way with every thing.
Loved the image of the heron weaving the sky with her neck…
thank you for this–
This one’s a gem, from the opening to the closing. I love how the lesson unfolds: the moment itself (such a fine opening stanza), the larger experience in the second stanza (I wonder if that ? is necessary there — the stanza doesn’t read like an answer to a question),
then that wonderful attempt to recapture the lost moment. Ah. My only note in the last stanza might be to change “am wanting” to a simple “want” but whatever, it rises either way. And good restraint in the pic, in not trying to capture the heron. The window is perfect.