The Heron

By Hodekin AOR

An iron grey sky drizzled cold grey rain

Whilst in the lake below

With the rain drip dripping from its long yellow beak

A grey Heron stood statue like by the water’s edge.

An immobile custodian of its roost amidst the reeds

Only his watery reflection dared move in the rain rippled lake.

Suddenly with an upward rush the statue sprang to life

All at once stillness gave way to motion

As inelegance gave way to beauty.

With each passing wing beat

Bold movement and bright colour tore into the cold greyness

And striving ever upwards, it rose with unshackled purpose

Into the teeth of an unyielding, unforgiving sky.

Majestic wings beating in measured precision

It soared and circled and glided

A monarch surveying its watery domain

A prince or prince’s cavalcading in royal splendour.

Then having exercised its regal right

The Heron swooping low

Regained its roost amidst the reeds.

Beauty had flown

Colour and movement dissolved into cold grey stillness.

For with the rain drip dripping from its long yellow beak

The statue had returned.