The Blue

atop a lonely mountain,
a blue swan waits.
Waits to spread her wings–
and fly.
She waits
for the mate of her soul,
the one
who has seen her sky-dreams,
the one who will fly with her.
But the clouds call to her,
they speak to her in the language of freedom.
And she waits no more
And soars.


Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “The Blue

  1. Aw! But you tempt her sorely with your lovely description of the vast arena awaiting her and freedom is a powerful urge. Well done (though I am sad for the soulmate)

  2. Yes.. I’m sad for him too. Maybe he’ll find her anyway, among the clouds.
    P.S. Thank you! 🙂

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