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Lost at Sea

An egret, old as time itself,
He found a fisherman.
Bent low with age and care he was,
Over his livelihood.
The egret, proud, but lonely, came
To perch against the rail,
And was welcome in the morning.
Said the egret,
Master, do you not miss the land,
The colors and the spoils
Of bountiful seasons long passed?
It is only blue here.
The fisherman smiled, reeled his catch,
And said
Here are spoils aplenty,
And when I soon shall leave this place,
I will not leave at all,
For my eyes will be morning dew,
My bones will be the waves.
The egret, curious, he pressed,
And asked about a wife.
The fisherman, he bowed his head,
And the bird understood.
Look about, said the smiling man.
Harken to the sunshine,
Listen to the autumn breezes.
Like newly fallen leaves,
To the place from which she has come,
My love, she has returned.
Asked the great bird,
Are you alone, here out at sea?
Have you not any friends
To care for and remember you?
The old man smiled again.
No, I am not alone, he said.
For you have come to me.
Would you know me, and remember?
The good bird pledged to stay,
And out on that great sapphire
They knew and loved the sea.
Their final parting will be short,
For the waves know their names,
And they will find each other there
When the world is made new.

Autres oeuvres par O.C. Bearheart...



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