Friday, May 27, 2005
Timesong 05 The Fisher King
As a child I played by a stream where a kingfisher hunted.
Iridescent wing feathers caught the sun as he dove for fish
Reflecting a flash of purest turquoise into the corner of one eye.
Quick! I would turn to look, but he was always gone.
And, though I gazed for hours through summer days
To see him dive with both my eyes,
This corner flash was all I ever saw.
I never knew what he was doing
When I wasn’t looking.
I guess photons are a bit like that.