Swans in the air this morning
over the ridge,
brought to mind the myth
of the old man of the forest
who scanned the skies for cranes
and wild geese,
translated the language of the trees
and mountains into symphonies
that set the mind on fire
when I was young enough
to believe that
a swan could be a mystical being,
or a man could be reborn.

Oh, for such belief now.
Swans in the air this morning,
anyhow.

And music to transform the day.