by Max Burchett
Black swans are a thing.
That thing never seen before,
Not known to exist,
What has never happened before.
If you can think of it,
Can expect or imagine it,
That swan is not black, or a swan
Just a strange possibility.
I discovered my own personal swans
Surprised by, not discovered
Personal tsunamis, personal lottery wins
Not the Vegas kind; rather, the lotteries of life.
Never imagined things I might do
Or would happen while racing into eternity.
Is the incredible waiting to spring?
What will it mean for me, or you?
Wonderfully good, or bad beyond belief?
Shocks of the universe or just for your life?
Intimate black swans while on your way,
The chance encounter changing life.
Unknown unknowns.
No need to worry.
Can't do anything about
A new wrinkle in what in life can't expect.
The unexpected we can never know
Until fate dishes it out.
Destiny that was there all along,
A high or low note of life's song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem