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Heron in the Snow
He follows the tracks closely.
His eyes focused intently.
A pipe hangs from the corner
of his mouth.
When he looks up from the
ground,
A few yards away,
There it is.
It's beautiful,
Majestic.
Its white feathers ruffled
as if huddled for warmth.
Producing his sketchpad
from within his montsuki,
He patiently draws the bird.
The lines flow freely,
Nature's calligraphy.
And the bird observes him
as well.
It cranes its head as if to
wonder
at how men can both destroy
and create.
@thewaywardpoet
#OharaKoson #art #paintings #museums #Japan #FarEast #travel #poetry #spontaneousprose
© All Rights Reserved
His eyes focused intently.
A pipe hangs from the corner
of his mouth.
When he looks up from the
ground,
A few yards away,
There it is.
It's beautiful,
Majestic.
Its white feathers ruffled
as if huddled for warmth.
Producing his sketchpad
from within his montsuki,
He patiently draws the bird.
The lines flow freely,
Nature's calligraphy.
And the bird observes him
as well.
It cranes its head as if to
wonder
at how men can both destroy
and create.
@thewaywardpoet
#OharaKoson #art #paintings #museums #Japan #FarEast #travel #poetry #spontaneousprose
© All Rights Reserved
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