The Swans in Beacon Hill Park

HEAD DOODLING BACK

I spent the whole day rambling - and more sleepy than awake - 

I stopped atop the arched Stone Bridge that spans Goodacre Lake.

A stirring so exquisite - there from out of misted veils -

two regal swans appeared like ghosts:  white orbs on silver trails.

They raised their graceful thin long necks - and on wings like downy spreads,

they glided straight towards me and they cocked their snowy heads. 

For several perfect moments, what transpired - beyond words: 

a palpable connection to that scene and the two birds. 

And then as if on some mute cue, the two swans moved as one 

and softly sailed together to the depths from where they'd come. 

Four decades now have passed since then, yet I still recall the sight: 

of that eerie gentle specter, on that supernatural night.

And then today I mentioned (when I chanced to meet someone) 

that I'd seen a haunting vision, in the town that they were from.

And they told me that the swans were gone, because of many things.

But mainly - they believed - it was the  pinioning of their wings.

Swans living in captivity are clipped so they can't fly.

That makes them very vulnerable to pets and passersby.

But when their wings were not pinioned the swans would fly away.

They were birds and born to fly.

Why would a free bird stay?

Such is the story of all life; some truths are meant to be. 

Real beauty cannot be captured -  

and wild things must live free.

Photo:  The Swans in Beacon Hill Park, Victoria, British Columbia – W. Bourke

© 2011 Wendy Bourke