Heron's Breath

I am minded of a moment when my life was perfect,
When I lay in the arms of the woman I most love,
When the water stirred gently at the edge of the pool,
When the stars gazed down, and the moon above
Wheeled into the dark sky full confident of her right
To create and to reign over such a lovely night.

That was a night that all the stars together breathed
Calm into the water, and serenity in the air.
That was a night when a heron came to feed,
Stalking graceful and gangly as a mantis from its lair
Into the water, his feathers a frosty blue
That broke my heart into halves and healed it anew.

Stalking like a sculpture come suddenly to life-
But a sculpture made of marble, not any grinding stone-
The heron paused in the water, and turned his head
As if he knew that in beauty that night he was not alone,
As if he knew that we lay there, and his looks
Were not unappreciated in this tiniest of nooks.

Whatever the reason, he suddeny arched his wings,
Stretched them wide, and held them in the moonlight.
We stared in admiration at the living stone vanes,
The radiance transfigured through them into starbright.
We lay there, and never again upon this side of death
Shall I lie so in such beauty and fear to draw a breath.

Something lived there, and something breathed there,
That, though it lived but an instant's poor brief span,
Has set its mark upon my life until this day,
Has set its mark upon me, and made me a better man.
For a moment, I knew wonder, loveliness, and life,
Lying there in the arms of she not yet my wife.

Then the heron leaped and arched into the sky,
Like a dolphin rising from the ocean's waves at dawn,
Like a dream come from the gates of ivory and horn.
He passed overhead, and suddenly was gone.
We lay there and felt the moment exhale and pass;
The water rippled, the stars winked, the wind was in the grass.

But for one moment only had we lain and watched
The shining miracle that stood there arch his star-forged wings.
For one moment only had we lain there and watched
That spun glass embodiement of the glory of all things.
But already in that moment our old selves died a death,
Died, and passed the darkest gate, in a heron's breath.

Beside star-stippled water in that evening's gloaming,
We had lain down to make love, and then we had seen
A heron come graceful parading through the water,
Had watched him arch his wings and fly off like a dream.
That was all we saw- and yet it would be a crime
Did we not understand that all beauty lived within that time.