The Preacher

The Preacher

Her pulpit
a rock
She perched on a delicate green
blanket of seaweed.

The ocean’s bounty trickles
upon her feet~~~

Her sermon, only
SILENCE
and she prepares for communion.
She waits, and waits, and waits.

Her eyes wide open~~~
her pupils scan for any motion…

Suddenly,
after all the waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
right there ‘bread.’

Her beak pummels through the water
‘broken’
a fish caught in her paired scissors
and blood flows onto her feathers.

Yes, death
A small fish sustains life.
The preacher digests only what is necessary
to ‘fill’ her belly.

As the sun rises,
she seems to bow her head in thanks~~~
In silence she no longer waits, and waits, and waits~~~

She is ‘full’