Swan

Morning coffee in hand,
I walked to the lake
from the campground
to greet the new day.

The sun was already
beaming bright,
a light fog
hovered over the water,
cool.

When, as if straight
from a storybook,
she appeared-
a radiant white swan
drifting silently
across the horizon.

I wanted to run
get my husband,
I wanted to run
for a good camera
I don’t own.
Just something, anything
to venerate and share
this moment.

But already,
she was halfway
across the lake,
soon to disappear
from sight.

So I took a breath
and trained my entire focus
on this fleeting vision
that I, alone, was given,
leaned into this mythical,
mystical moment.

And then she was gone.

We are home now
but she is still with me,
floating across the horizon
of my mind,
reminding me
of the pure
and unexpected
singularity of hope.

By Maria Brady-Smith