the heron

I don’t believe in heaven…

the great blue heron

with serviceable beak

stands camouflaged

in the Presidio. 

the great blue heron

with hollow bones

of a greedy fellow

takes flight,

swoops to the blue

skies matching eyes

sorted by the decade.

birdsong breakthrough

remains true,

possessing human souls.

energy of infinity

choose wisely.

the sign read, “bad air”

chasing the fabled

twin mirages,

fame and fortune,

gold golden mapmaker

uncredited pseudonym.

surround yourself

in fabrics and colors

to match your will.

choose wisely 

what you wrap yourself in,

wings spread lightly,

live in harmony.

choose wisely

what indulges your skin.

covered in feathers,

some dull, some bright,

bluish godly flesh 

and purity white stripe

appears to follow

pleading strength within.

this might be heaven…

reminding of balance

symbolism gracefully lands

next to a dragonfly

on silk pillows of confession

adorned with the care of soul heron.