An archer, went into the woods
with two of her loyal dogs.
She was quick, she was witty,
but was she good enough?
Would all her effort in her training
do her good?
Was she disciplined herself strict enough,
because when her arrows fell
there's also where her venture should fall.
As she went deeper into the woods,
her grip tightened, her pace widened.
She wanted to prove her struggle,
she wanted to prove her worth.
She heard a sound, near the bank of the river.
It might a hare for dinner,
but it also might a linx, a danger!
She gripped her bow tensely
and her arrow even more.
But when she uncovered who was behind,
it was just a heron, looking at she.
The heron, his eyes were wide, unafraid
standing on one feet
he was steady and still
in the middle of the cold rapid stream
though it was from the vessel
whom which the water of life flowed from
but indeed life was never always bright
and warm and pleasant
but the heron
standing on his one feet
in the middle of the cold rapid stream
stand steady and still
The heron was still looking at she
and she was stunned to watch him as if he told her so.
So she took down her bow and arrow,
and sat by the river bank, watching the heron.
The heron now moved his piercing gaze
from she to the water beneath.
His body bowed, but remain calm
was he kept on still.
And just when the time was right
his beak hoofed the water
and a fish was on his power.
And with a big gulp, the fish was gone
and so the heron, to the sky of late dawn.
(continued to part II)
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