This morning a lone snowy egret
perched stoically atop the leafless tree
rising out of the small preserve.
Of what was it a harbinger, what
message was I needing, failing to hear?
Was it in search of a dove amid endless
news of wars still raging on,
or was it repeating the unheard warning
of what we had wrought in its once
edenic world, now built over, now wracked
in turn by storms and droughts.
Or was the cat correct in that we,
all three, were simply supposed to stop
thinking, stop looking, and simply
accept the beauty of an undisturbed moment.