Nature is thoroughly practical, as well as beautiful. To support and move his wonderful tail, the peacock's muscles are like steel. Roasted peacock was a glamour dish, but extremely tough. For this reason, not for its beauty, the bird represents eternity in medieval art, especially mosaics.

Today's poem concentrates on the beauty.

THE PEACOCK’S PRAISE

The peacock spreads his tail, and stands,
And steps, and stands again.
The thoughtful breeze lifts a few strands
And lets them spread again:
Strands of copper and gilt,
Exquisite workmanship,
And, in another light, a sea-green glint.

The peacock turns, shrrrr-rr-rrs his fan,
And turns, still spread.
His frozen cosmos of whirling eyes,
Copper till now, floods green.
The floating silk –
Such emerald and blue, turquoise and gold –
Medieval colours, jeweller’s craft.

No other prayer is needed.
Here he stands:
Perfect praise and thanks.