C.M. Rivers

The feet of the heron,

under those bamboo stems,

hold the blue body,

the great beak

above the shallows

of the pond.

Who could guess

their patience?

Sometimes the toes

shake, like worms.

What fish could resist?

Or think of the cricket,

his green hooks,

climbing the blade of grass-

or think of camel feet

like ear muffs,

striding over the sand-

or think of your own

slapping along the highway,

a long life,

many miles.

To each of us comes

the body gift.

~Mary Oliver  (Many Miles)