Animal Rights, Spiritual and Inspirational poetry that touch the heart and soul, and provoke the mind.
In eerie silence
the great heron
strokes slowly
through the dusky mist,
It could be
ten million years ago
at the edge
of a primeval swamp,
Just above the tips
of water-loving trees
there’s only dense gray vapor
and the heron
rowing in slow motion,
No other sight or sound,
A living tableau
lost in time,
And then
the plaintive soft cooing
of a single mourning dove.
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