Grace Full

"How can I be
full of grace?"
I asked you.

You sent me a dream
in answer.

I saw a boat gliding
on a clear lagoon.

A dozen swans
floated by
six white
and six a glossy blue-black.

I watched them
float past, longing
to follow,
and woke with
aching heart
hungering to be
graceful as the swans.

"Am I the poet then,
the muse, or
the swan?"
I asked you.

I thought I caught
your whisper on
the wind.

"You are my beloved"
was the reply. * o

Grace Full