Swan song II

When I was younger we used to go on trips to the park every evening to see the swans. It was beautiful and summer was good. We would wait for the cygnets to pop put from their eggs and then we would watch them grow. Moor hens would paddle about in the sultry water and the night sky would ring songs. The white majesty built her fortress on the lake, making a palace out of nature. I learned to love the sky for its feeling. Watched the bats swoop and dive. I don't know when this stopped but the swans are in my heart. Fierce, wild, beautiful creatures. They love for life and bond the soul of the currents. The young quickly fly away and escape on adventure living in pure whiteness. Swan song plays in my limbs. The remembrance of a child and heart of humanity. To be.