It was just like any other day, floating as she reflected
upon her reflection on that lake. She looked at her fellow swans from a
distance; they were busy with their everyday, day to day norm; some were
picking and cleaning their feathers, others taking a nap, some gently swaying
with their mates as they swam, and others taking a walk on the dry land.
She looked back at her reflection, then up to the sky. The
sun was setting and it was a nice warm summer day. The sky and the lake both
looked the same, but felt absolutely different. She felt however a connection
between the sky and the lake, an invisible thread that connected both. Something
was calling her from the sky, an urge started building within her. The old
tradition said, “You should always fly and travel in packs, never alone or thee
shall perish”. For once the old traditions and norms meant nothing to her. I
mean she just smiled, her eyes teared up because her life will never be the
same ever again, she just lifted her wings up in the sky from the lake droplets
of water were drizzling from above mixing with her tears, everyone looked at
her with owe and wondered what is going on with that crazy swan, they knew she
was always weird but now she’s topping all her records. She lifted her body up
slowly like she was the only swan in the whole existence; the lake was
distorted, looked and felt different. Her body was between the lake and the
sky, not knowing where she was heading, but feeling with every inch of her body
that she was meant to be else were and that she had a mission to fulfill.
The other swans started rushing towards her shouting and
yelling, warning her not to fly away since she’ll be doomed, it’s a dangerous
world out there, they called her a “delusional”, “Crazy”, “Bipolar”, even one
suggested that she might be “Dehydrated”. It was hilarious that she was
laughing as her tears were pouring down her feathery cheeks. She was up high,
too late and too fast for anyone to catch up with or stop. She looked at the
setting sun and started flying towards it. Call them crazy, but some swore that
she looked like an angel, a white angel flapping its wings towards the setting
sun as the sparkles of her tears seemed like glitter in the air.
Oh how pleasant the wind seemed on her cheeks, and life
never felt that fulfilling or perfect for her ever before. She knew she was
heading towards a journey, guided, and led. After all she carried her inner
compass within her.
Mo Gabris
