Wild Egret

Where is the wild egret

Of the Himalayan

Foothill,

Who calls

At the break

Of day; who sails

In her glimmering

Country

Beyond the starred horizon,

Beyond the veils

Of dust and pain,

Who sends her

Flaming

Dragon

Forth to still

The stirring pit,

That none will

Be

Thereafter

But only the holy

Misted, quiet

Rain

That falls

Long,

Silver on the shorn parapet

Down the clefts of the rock-born mountain

And only the white petals of the lily

Who will find yet again and again

Her echoing,

Snow-winged song

On the windlit lake?

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