Awake, My Precious Swan, the Waves are Calling

Awake, my precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak

Of mayflies, and mystic mermaids. Walk the clouds, my

Heart, and speak kindness, my watchful eye. Tiptoe the

Symbols: electrify the music: and soar the undulations, for

Such is love. Ours—a dynasty; and ours—a miracle. Awake,

My precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak of

Blurry lines, Asian roots, and rail road tracks. The caves—

Fraught with soot: the mind—a touch of smaze; but such

Beautiful mermaids; and such mystic elves. Awake, my

Precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak of bleeding

Dreams, and diamond tears, a daisy cry. Infuse calligraphy,

My silent storm: inspirit myth; and tread the skyline. For

Oak, a sturdy root; and pearl, a sacred bead. In truth, the

Eyes, my love—feed the eyes: they tire not.