Not duckling
But gosling
Not ugly, but beautiful
So the swan discovered
As it grew and watched its reflection:
It had all been a case of mistaken identity.

The hamsa led the flock
On shimmering reflections.
It mated
Had gosling
That grew and flew behind:
Nevermore a case of mistaken identity.

Unknown to its self
It aged.
Reflections upturned
Bedraggled feathers.
This isn’t me, thought the swan:
It’s a case of mistaken identity.

Other swans swam
Past, breaking
Its reflection.
Alone, it floated
On flowing waters:
No case, there was, for mistaken identity.

Broke
From its throat
The first song, the last
In its swansong of regret
It reflected:
Was I, all through, a case of mistaken identity?

So hum, ham sa: That I am; I am That.
With each remaining
Breath this reflection
Of cosmic design
Didn’t get through to the swan:
Is That too, then, a case of mistaken identity?




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