Night Heron, Ascending

This entry is part 7 of 47 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Summer 2012

Through the window by my desk, I see a poem light in the branches
of a tree. It roosts awhile, then leaves— Night heron, ascending.

My friend thinks it an omen for something good and rare. I regard the question
mark of its neck and back, its feathered cap streaked with pale saffron, ascending.

Last season’s big storm flung a nest with young herons to the ground.
Perhaps this is one of them, out of the rhododendrons ascending.

In The Conference of The Birds, what fate befalls it as the flock undertakes
the journey? A blur past oak, ash, and willow; past reddened crags, ascending.

From that height, boats are specks on the water, and we, even smaller.
Which dark craft at the river’s mouth is Charon’s, swiftly descending?

In this summer light, some things look struck by gold: mythic, emblematic.
Portentous spirit, wings outlined with neon— tell me of ascending.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← Ghazal, Beaded with RainDerecho Ghazal →

6 Comments


  1. The beautiful images in your poem are now ascending to the heron where it will cry out in wonder at this marvelous answer to its omen.
    Thank you ,Luisa, for sharing it with us.

    Reply

  2. I wrote a poem replying to this, but it never made it here. I don’t know where it went on the blog.

    Reply

    1. I don’t know, either — it didn’t appear in the spam folder or the moderation queue. I presume you kept a copy somewhere. Why don’t you just try to leave the comment again?

      Reply

      1. Robbi, Dave — I found the poem :) Robbi, you left it in the comments to the Morning Porch entry. Nice poem too!

        Reply

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