White Swans Rising

Arching already out-stretched necks
white swans rise, lift off mirrored water
as if decision and motion were one.
One great flap of wings,
tips kissing the wet surface goodbye.
The air fills with their grace,
fills with white motion
as they undulate across the wide marsh
becoming specks in a sky
awash with the fading sunset.

In the marsh below white swans rising
fish undulate among the watery reeds
seeking sustenance in murky waters
of this summer evening.
Near the marsh below, a lone child
chases fireflies while a dragon-fly
plays with the air, and the colors
of sunset give way to blue velvet night.

In her dreams the child rises,
touches the earth goodbye,
becomes a white swan rising,
filling the sky with the white motion of herself,
becomes a white swan rising,
flying away from the watery grass, the murky waters.

But here, on this earth, in this sky,
the stars go on spinning like pinwheels,
silently over the wide marsh,
over that one child, alone with her fireflies,
the watery grass, the murky waters.
Alone-with her white swans rising.

Syracuse 1983
Sugar Hill 2004

 

~Return To "The Interior Self"