Herons
Have you seen those herons by the lake?
Those tall solitary strangers
Who know best how to sit still and wait,
Luna’s friends, who seem to have unraveled
All deep hidden meanings.
My impatience once led me to their side;
I heard amidst the heartless kyek kyek
With which they hide their thoughts
That Leda had been born again.
An uneven endearing pearl
Brought here in an oyster shell;
More youthful and taller,
More human with smaller, naughtier eyes.
I wished I could know more –
If she had just walked past the limestone breastwork
With lavender stalks in her hands
And left the air dense with their perfume;
If like the moon
Her face waxed white and pale
When she divined from their silent gestures
That love grows deep with each new arrival
And the shimmering of poplar leaves
Is filled with meaning,
Also the sight of pretty starlings
Who’ve long unlearned to sing;
And if she frowned and smiled with faint regret
That a spell was cast exceeding her intent
Pleased to know that she could make
Life look so beautiful.
Beautiful, indeed, in all its transience!
But here the herons flapped their wings
And left without an answer.
