I saw a Great Egret clinging to
A wood post one dismal day.
His white feathers shown bright
Against the grey and gloomy bay.
The wind circled around the pillar,
Taunting the Egret to sway.
But he stood stony silent,
Moving neither way.
The rain prodded the quiet Egret,
But not a feather did he stray.
I wondered why in a fierce squall
The Egret’s flight would delay.
God whispered, “Stand strong the storm,
And my Glory I will display.”
The sun squelched that vexing gale,
And the Egret soared away.