Heron and me
Wind and sea
Space between us
Watcher and watcher watching
Am I alone here
Or part of a whole
Belonging is fleeting
Questions lift and fly
Melody of swash carries
Choirs from other shores
Night birds glide to clouds
I survey you surveying
Graceful hunter
Sky draws her shades
I choose a stone to throw
Here is a small gift
For hours you can look and look
Sun rises then sets
How can I describe the scene for you
so you might feel as though
you see what it is my half closed eyes
rested upon that glowing hush of sky’s light?
Maybe today it is enough that I say it
and you believe my simple words framing
whatever arrives as what is real and sacred
beautiful in your own quiet way.
Pencil Notes 