Poetry

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THE SERENITY OF THE SWAN

The impossible
So it would seem of the swan
Beautiful and yet a surprise
The long-necked, and heavy bodied

Gracefully
As she drifts along the water
Undisturbed in her world of serenity
Gazing upon the reflection God gave her

From her summer pond,
With purpose slowly
She rises into the sky
And she is gone

Contemplating, but not the first time
I take a deep breath
Satisfied, and I think
How improbable this is

That death itself is but a place in the ground
How unlikely the miracle
Of resurrecting to a different place
Though everything in my being argues

The cycle of life continues
As the snow fox burrows
The magpie,
Makes itself known

Gratefully winters are short
And that summers are long and warm
Beautifully serene ponds clear and clean
And therefore it isn’t a miracle at all

It is a normal thing
A choice,
That the swan floats in grace and calm
Ignoring the chaos that surrounds her

Free to decide: sudden and without notice
She opens her beauty to the world below her
Allowing the freedom of the wind
To lift her up as if she had eagle’s wings.

By Rick McGrath, Ph.D.

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