Amid Cattails Slowly....
White and sharp and ghostly,
The slightest breath of sound brings wings to loft,
A sign of spring as sure as the sun returns,
Regal and mystical amid the mirrored waters,
The flight above from the Everglades to Illinois and beyond,
I see the White Heron stalking frog princes and fish,
The sunset on white feathers is a glow upon my pond,
And I feel the call of the Druids to love the land,
Still in the gaze of that baleful and piercing eye,
Dancing amid that cattails slowly step by step,
I know there is more beneath the surface,
Awaiting discovery in the coming summer.
By: Daniel A. Stafford