Unfathomable Mystery

I did not notice
when swifts left.
Did they fly west?
Did they fly south?

They were master acrobats
rising, falling, racing,
fearlessly grazing
the edge of Eternity.

The blue fields of freedom
now look empty:
Grace will remain
an unfathomable mystery.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Common Swifts
(Bruno Liljefors, 1886)