kneeling at the end of the dock
weathered boards splinter the inward gaze
and the clamour of hungry ghosts begins to fade across the lake
darkling minnows swirl below the surface of the water
sieving the mind of errands and unrest
when all at once a great blue heron settles on the shore
he folds me in to the peace of his wings
and the old ache recedes
yet his spear-like beak belies the stillness of his pose
and warns against complacency
he is silent but his song resounds in my heart
attuned to the counsel of reeds and the soft breath of lilies
we float together in this living chalice
arrested in time
the confluence of our being a stillpoint of grace
there will come a time for the seedpod to burst
for the motion of discourse and service
but for now
I am willing to pause
while the scroll of pollen unwinds its fulgent message
of sweetness yet to come
while the birds teach me a new tongue to describe the mystery
Yvonne MacKenzie
LOVE the line...
ReplyDelete"...weathered boards splinter the inward gaze..."