At the Edge of the Lagoon



In the thin moonlight,

we found ourselves by the lagoon,

where a congregation of boulders—

earth's silent sentinels—leaned in close.


Beneath the sky, freckled with starlight,

we stifled our breath.

There, at the gravel shore,

two herons, gray-blue phantoms, stood.


Frozen in their stalking,

spearing fish,

their stillness a dance of hunger,

swift strikes for wriggling prey.


Nature's quiet theater, inches away,

the wordless sermon of survival,

from fish to heron,

from silence to flight.


With a whisper of wings,

the herons ascended,

their lean bodies melting into foliage,

where nests wait, eggs hunger,

and the earth spins onward.

  • Author: gray0328 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 3rd, 2024 08:40
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 4
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