Meditation: Three Black Swans

I saw something I’ve never seen before. Something more rare than a four-leaf clover, a gaggle of midnight colored swans. No doubt skating through the present on their own wind rails, and still tethered vernal air patterns foreign a humming bird like me.

A black asterism.

Dancing during the day, spiraling towards one truth. We all walk the same air.

We all belong.

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