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A sparrow calls outside the
Window, and the grey light
Of morning comes through it.
Before the window, the voices
Of the congregation. Of the
Faces there a light bears out
Other than the fittings bestow.
The voice of the Lord is a
Powerful voice! and it is hope,
Against its abiding futility.

An egret steps gently into the
Shallows near a runoff pipe,
Its plumage a cold white in the
Shade of a willow. Lights wind
Silently across its legs, ribbons
Cast up by the slight motion of
The pale green water.

How empty we are,
In our shackles, each cool day!