of love I sing
of music it can make
   on strings of joy
   tuned to your melody

of how it touches keys
whose resonance reverberates
in unknown caverns
of the soul
   lit by a sudden harmony
as flighty
   and as delicate
as humming birds
   buzz through your vision
at summer dusk

and as persistent
in their imprint
on your inner eye

as that of four swans
rising in a line
towards the morning sun
above a misty pond
long years ago
when you were wandering
   by yourself
and questioning
the wisdom of the world
and of your almost
thirty years

wisdom still
does not go unquestioned
   love remains
the beauty of that moment
   grows