Egret

It is:

The grace of a tiger, backwards
A splash around stepping stones,
A spear steadying the water,
A samurai’s second sword,
A crooked neck of shepherd’s tool,
A long arrow skipped from its quiver
A stanza beneath helmet’s visor,
A budding white cotton,
Grown from the steel of a black leg.
Form of an outline,
Unless blinked at through the sun’s inkblot.
All of you is one!

*Egret