Swan

byNigel Debonnaire©

The Song, The Song,
The song I’ve longed to sing,
the song I’ve spent a lifetime learning:
the best song, the sweetest song,
the Only Song.
My Heart vibrates with the Song,
crawling up my throat
filling my lungs,
bursting my veins
my Mind is filled with nothing but the Song,
my Soul is brimming over with the Song
.
My mouth is dry,
my throat is gummy,
my tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth.
The Song cannot get out
through I grapple with it,
cannot fight past the mucous muck
and the desert and the hoarseness,
no matter how I fight to thrust it out,
it’s trapped by coarse honks and sputters
.
It is silent, calm,
and I swim away from the Golden Chorus,
confident I have longer to learn the song.
Though a thousand years pass
and the world grows cold and barren
and I am alone,
I will wait and ponder and dream
and fight with the Song
while its echoes fill my empty head,
and its harmony will sustain me
if I last to the end of time.

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