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Poetry for the Heart

As a tribute to Mary Oliver, beloved poet by every plant- lover I know, I wanted to share a poem by Guido Masé, with his permission.

Find the original publication on his blog.

Waterfowl, new moon

by Guido Masé

… with due respect to the loons …

The great blue heron, so still, is like

a standing piece of driftwood, silver-gray cyan,

like when wood sees the pond water too long

and then, pushed up by a frost heave,

sun-bleaches and molders, gathering color.

Her neck feathers are fine grain exposed by years,

the pith and heartwood interweaving,

immobile, strong, fixed quiet to watch.

But when the neck coils down to spring

and wings open, stretching out tips

to catch sun rays in between,

you can feel the air compress

and watch her rise

as if a cord had lifted her from the granite

that lies half sunk beneath the glassy surface.

In my time I too

hope to rise that way,

fast and light and lifted,

not like the loons, who cry and flap,

and beat the water,

needing their slow, heavy ascent

to raise red eyes over the treeline.

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