Poem: The Maguari Stork

The Maguari Stork

He bends his neck back all the way till his head
touches his back— such acrobatic prowess
I've not seen anywhere in man or beast.
Then with a loud screech, he plunges his beak

to the ground as if spearing a hidden worm.
Ofttimes that beak pokes out of the fence
piercing a giant leaf of a nearby shrub
whose branches would shake back and forth.

When he approaches me with his hunched back,
I motion with my cupped hands "Higher! Higher!"
and he stretches up his neck upright
as if I were a symphony conductor.

When the zookeeper comes inside his cage
to clean some foliage, the stork backs him
near the tree with two vultures, and then
returns to perform more acrobatic feats.

Coming back to the zoo a month later,
I find the stork near closing time at dusk.
This time he does not respond to any of
my promptings appearing tired or asleep.

I begin to sing my sacred windsong—
"Whoo, Whooh, Whoo, Whoo, Whooh!"
stomping my feet like Bacchus on grapes to
some Hopi dance chanting "Heh Ye! Heh Ye!"

Staring at me with those black beady eyes,
he screeches aloud, bends his head to touch
his back and spears his beak towards me.
My friend says "You've got him all worked up!"

As we were leaving, the stork follows us
to the other side of the cage. I glance
back to see those giant wings spread out
to a flurry of wind— song of white & black

flying to the topmost branch of a tree,
his surprise parting gift to me that day.
Often I think of him back home in Brazil
resting in a Philosophical Back Garden

or in Attar's Conference of the Birds as
the Hoopoe sharing ancient wisdom with all.
And like Nils on the backs of wild geese,
I'm uplifed flying with the Maguari Stork.

— Peter Y. Chou
Mountain View, 1-24-2007

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