home of the heron
Home of the Heron – George Inness


Your wings arch and rise.

Beneath such tides

the world is silenced.


Observant, the clouds roll back a parchment

scribed with prophesy

I can’t translate.


Your eye, dart sharp, immaculate,

clear as a lake reflecting granite sky.

Your dull plumage brims

with a universe of stars.


From marble plinth, brink

you perch

on the edge

of a great flood.

A surge swelling with the music of flight.


Your fluid form serrates the filmy dusk,

sends ashes plummeting

to make craters of the ground.


Your simple onward stride

a sail in a vast ocean.

Your silence a sanctuary

amidst tempests of tailored talk and meaningless motion,

swirling the streets like plastic bags

receipts, filigree of half-composed, decompositions.


Oh, gentle grey wave,

lapping silence on this ship wrecked shore

you remind me of a sacrament,

of atonement.


While we set alarms

beneath the timeless sky, you fly

somewhere above, beyond,

as if to say, stop.

This is why

you are lost.






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s