The Blue


Somewhere
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.
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2 Comments

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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