Solemnity
The swan reflects the water. Water’s light
Shines off the grace. It moves like moon-drawn flow
Up rivers. Streaming feathers claim the white
Of foam on ocean waves. The feathers go
Where God would go if he were mortal in
A world devoid of death. Swan water shines
Off purity. The unborn lacking sin
Glow flawlessly. Such swans become their shrines.
Dawn water has become the swans, as clean
As if in Plato’s perfect realm. Streams move
As swans. The swans and river are the scene
That he imagined, equally to prove
His point as if the Buddha spoke outside
The universe, a white, white, white, white tide.