THE TRUMPETER SWANS The pen sits and waits Upon her nest among The reeds where no Man’s greed can steal Or break the eggs Beneath her breast She blares no trumpet To call attention to Herself and the unborn Cygnets she soon will Carry on her back to Keep them safe She waits patiently in Silence among the Cat-tails where red-wing Black birds soon will Soar and swoop around Her nest to feed their kind She sees no red, no Black, no white, and Hears no honking from The noisy swamp where Black birds die beneath A rogue cob’s knee. - Gordon C. Stewart, with the trumpeter swans by the wetland, June 3, 2020
The Anguished Heart of God
“Now the whole earth was corrupt in God’s sight and was filled with violence.” “The Lord was grieved that he had made man upon the earth, and his heart was filled with pain.”Genesis, chapter 6, verses 11 and 6.
— Gordon C. Stewart with the trumpeter swans by the Minnesota wetland, June 4, 2020.on’t