Great Blue Heron

Far from water, fenced in by forest,
the bird the shaman called my spirit
guide, landed in our backyard,
wide wings flapping as if to signal
his arrival, sculpted face turned,
eyes fixed on me as if to speak;
instead rising like a dream, slow
lift of light, he disappeared to leave
me earthbound and astonished—
though awe-struck is more accurate—
feathered herald in these twilit times,
angel at the empty tomb.