"Feather at Midday", a poem by Sr. Dang Nghiem

If I had not stopped to watch a feather flying by,

I would not have seen its landing–

a tiny pure white feather.

Gently, I blew a soft breath

to send it back to the spring.

If I had not looked up to watch

the feather gliding over the roof,

I would not have seen

the crescent moon

hanging at midday.

by Sr. Dang Nghiem, from Healing: A Woman's Journey from Doctor to Nun. © Parallax Press, 2010