The cormorants sun themselves on the south shore.
The fishermen who drag their nets throughout this inland lake see no beauty here,
just thieves, who steal their time and harvest their fish.
In Asia cormorants tethered to the fishermen with neckrings,
are flung into the sea for fish they cannot eat,
trained to slave their lives away.
Here the cormorants freely fly,
gather together to preen in the sun,
talk to each other in sounds of their own.
There is a piece of me that does not fit my normal world,
and I must fly. I must be free.
The year is filled with pieces of time. I give the world their share.
But when the world has rounded the limit of orbit that's theirs,
I call for my share of the sun.
Poetry & graphic painting by Mary Joan Meagher
Order paintings, books, poems, and notecards from my website: Original Handmade Handbags.GO
Music: Lynn's Song by Marilyn Brown
Copyright:by Mary Joan Meagher: © 2004
Return to Page 1:Poems About Nature and Spirituality
e-mail: mmeagher@ties2.net
Additional Web site: http://www.TimeofOurLivesShow.org