Mute Swans Cannot Cry Aloud Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

mute swans cannot cry aloud
I whisper to myself in dreams
how infinitely sad it seems to me
until I consider that silence may be
on occasion,
more beautiful than likewise, the lilies
speak through gliding
through lifting your wings
in a silver, silver sheen fathomless
let flight speak for you
or floating, this will do as much
or not at all
would some understand you anyway
float on uncomprehended
upon the waters visionary
expressing the soul
far from trouble
in what music there is
in being itself, without language
untrifled with
commissioned by angels and emblematic of (to me)
what I cannot get into my poem
no matter how much I long to.
mary angela douglas 4 december 2023