An egret

This morning,
my mind is a
limpid lake of blue waters
reflecting the yawning sky
with its countless clouds
and

on its banks
grass in different shades of green
and egrets
all the same shade of white.

The grass in different shades of green
don’t rustle even in the strongest of winds.
But one egret stalks the bank in a measured gait.
Another stretches out its wind to receive all the sun.
The egret next to it takes flight into the
tenebrous forest shimmering with my fears and guilt
and never returns.

Then,
even as I sit and watch helplessly
one egret soars into the monsoon sky;

A lone streak of white
against the infinite grey.