For Ray

A pair of herons flew,

Blue, over the Conejo Grade.

Large and graceful, they glided

Together through the yellow sky.

A rare sight, a delight for my eye,

Wings waving, as if saying

“Look at me–I’m here for you.”

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A pair of herons flew,

True, over the Conejo Grade.

Earnest and determined, they darted

Together through cool morning wind.

A holy scene, though green has thinned,

Talons touching, telling us

“Hold on–always hold on to each other.”

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A pair of herons flew,

Anew, over the Conejo Grade.

Drifting slowly upward they soared,

Wings whipping, wings whispering, wings wandering

Toward the skyward nest of heaven

As you and I descended, down the steep slope, to Earth.