Swan and cygnets

Said the Cygnet to the Swan

All I see is raggedy, dirt-grey-white and perfectly

estranged, a neck and head, a fleck in wriggled lines.


Be still, she said, see this crescent moon.

Be still: for I call you rising glory of a new day.

Be still: for I call you waves of beauty.


Beneath this gloss, the ebb and flow.


Be still:

I name you Grace

small mirror of my heart.

Chaucer Cameron