Swan symbolizes grace and beauty on many levels. It is associated with love, music, and poetry. In Roman mythology Swan was sacred to Venus, the goddess of love. In Greek tradition, this bird was often pictured singing to a lyre.
When I was very young, my mother took me for walks in Humboldt Park, along the edge of the Prairie River. I have vague memories, like impressions on glass plates, of an old boathouse, a circular band shell, an arched stone bridge. The narrows of the river emptied into a wide lagoon and I saw upon its surface a singular miracle. A long curving neck rose from a dress of white plumage.
Swan, my mother said, sensing my excitement. It pattered the bright water, flapping its great wings, and lifted into the sky.
The word alone hardly attested to its magnificence nor conveyed the emotion it produced. The sight of it generated an urge I had no words for, a desire to speak of the swan, to say something of its whiteness, the explosive nature of its movement, and the slow beating of its wings.
The swan became one with the sky. I struggled to find words to describe my own sense of it. Swan, I repeated, not entirely satisfied, and I felt a twinge, a curious yearning, imperceptible to passersby, my mother, the trees, or the clouds. Patti Smith on her first memory of the creative impulse.
Radish... about 6 years ago
Swan symbolizes grace and beauty on many levels. It is associated with love, music, and poetry. In Roman mythology Swan was sacred to Venus, the goddess of love. In Greek tradition, this bird was often pictured singing to a lyre.
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Mi amor es muerto.
Peam Premium Member about 6 years ago
Sad
Brass Orchid Premium Member about 6 years ago
Worse yet, it may be made of polystyrene foam and anchored in the pond to scare off geese.
Blessed are those who await applause, for theirs is the wing kingdom of Froglandia.
Happy, happy, happy!!! Premium Member about 6 years ago
That hurts. Good poetry, T. Made me mist up a bit.
Howard'sMyHero about 6 years ago
Helluva swan song … like a country ditty … maybe entitled
“That Swan Down And So Am I” ….
InquireWithin about 6 years ago
Jesus loves you. Now take your Zoloft.
Sisyphos about 6 years ago
That’s a sad tale, not to mention wasted ammunition. Shoulda shot some of those dirty, poopy Canada geese!
Eagleskies Premium Member about 6 years ago
Avian eremitism can kill? Who knew? Flock it!
6turtle9 about 6 years ago
My swan hugs your swan.
droneillps Premium Member about 6 years ago
Bizarre and incomprehensible is ok. Truly depressing, not so much.
6turtle9 about 6 years ago
When I was very young, my mother took me for walks in Humboldt Park, along the edge of the Prairie River. I have vague memories, like impressions on glass plates, of an old boathouse, a circular band shell, an arched stone bridge. The narrows of the river emptied into a wide lagoon and I saw upon its surface a singular miracle. A long curving neck rose from a dress of white plumage.
Swan, my mother said, sensing my excitement. It pattered the bright water, flapping its great wings, and lifted into the sky.
The word alone hardly attested to its magnificence nor conveyed the emotion it produced. The sight of it generated an urge I had no words for, a desire to speak of the swan, to say something of its whiteness, the explosive nature of its movement, and the slow beating of its wings.
The swan became one with the sky. I struggled to find words to describe my own sense of it. Swan, I repeated, not entirely satisfied, and I felt a twinge, a curious yearning, imperceptible to passersby, my mother, the trees, or the clouds. Patti Smith on her first memory of the creative impulse.