I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking that when we witness an amazing
and spontaneous occurrence in nature, there is some kind of meaning or message in
it for us. The poem I am sharing today describes one of those moments. It
happened a few years ago on a foggy summer morning. I was sitting in the
sunroom on my purple yoga mat, staring out at our backyard and doing a little
stretch before work. Then I lay flat on my back for just a few moments, closed
my eyes and took in some deep breaths before sitting up again. Within the
seconds that my eyes were closed, something had happened outside. Right there, standing on the nearby rocks at the edge of our tiny pond, was something staring
in at me – a heron. I didn’t move. She didn’t move. And she didn’t stay for long.
Two minutes—maybe? Later that day, I went out back to skim that little pond.
Right there, in the tangle of lily pads, was one water lily in full bloom – the
only one that ever bloomed during the short time that we lived in that house. The
heron visitor seemed to have just sprung to life out of the petals and fog. I’d
never had a heron visit my backyard before that day, and I haven’t had one
visit since.
heron
sprung from
pink water lily
petals
she
appears
an apparition
in August
morning mist
a messenger
a still-life
a dream—
‘be patient’
she might say
but in a
blink
she is gone
—by Sheri Doyle, all
rights reserved
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| The one and only water lily that bloomed in our pond that summer. |
Robyn Hood Black is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup here.
