Above, Beyond
The swan does not desire to leave his white
On water. Swimming on the surface he
Turns neck and head towards his goal with slight
Concern for beauty. Serendipity
Meanders on the surface. Folded wings
Are calmer than the flowing stream he floats
Along though it is calmer than the springs
Of heaven which is waiting for the notes
That he will sing while dying. River swirls
Contain no mind to hold his image. These
Simply move. Perhaps they think of pearls
And try to be that white beneath dark trees.
..Although the water takes the white upon
….Its surface, flawless beauty soon is gone.