In Due Time

My dearest swan—a light is burning: a torch is soaring; and
A miracle walks the forest. The winds whisper: they speak
Of teenage years: life, boys and secrets; and much to hide—
Akin to nothin’; and flirts and tugs and teenage love: “I

Want to be groan”: “She can’t tell me that.” In due time; and
Then the sea; and then the waves; and then the ships—setting
Sail. I speak in riddle; but in due time; and then the sky, a
Silent cry; and then the walks, a heavy heart; and soul to

God, a mental prayer; and light to gloom, a sudden flare.
We love to sing; and sing to love; and cloud to earth: an earth
To cloud. Indeed, such blessings: such mystic stars; and we
Challenge life; and nurture songs: alive the fall, and born to
Rise; and chi to mind, a subtle wit; and sun to soul, a float and
Flit; and true to love, a fitted rose.