with pointed beak
penetrates fish hearts
but heron priestess
plumbs their souls
with piercing eyes
The loveliness of the moon and the restless sea,
food and sleep and dream,
brain and flesh and temptation.
Her dream of rapture with one thrust
coming in its season without stint,
without sorrow, but with one delight,
the straight, unbending law of herons.
My dream exercised with sorrow,
broken, awry, with the glitter of temptation,
wounded, morose, with but one sparkle,
brain, heart and love troubled.
of the crooked veering of the heart,
and there is no knowledge of the damage
to which its aim unwittingly comes.
There is no knowledge, no knowledge,
of the final end of each pursuit,
nor of the subtlety of the bends
with which it loses its course.