For Minnesota
The January storm rolled in with breakneck speed.
An insurrection of icy waves across the lake.
Hit head on. Tossed repeatedly.
So started the pursuit of peaceful blue water.
Bobbing. Paddling. Still afloat.
Icy spray pummeled his face.
Swimming forward. Thrown back.
A breaking point? A turning point?
Determined to find peaceful blue water.
Bobbing. Paddling. Still afloat.
In desperate protest he let out a piercing tremolo cry.
A cry of distress so loud it punctured the night.
Heard across the lake. Heard around the world.
Would he ever reach peaceful blue water?
Bobbing. Paddling. Still afloat.
No count or recount. They came in millions.
Protesting tremolo cries. Blood stained tears. Exhausted.
In solidarity they swam. Forward against the icy waves.
Now in full pursuit of peaceful blue water.
Bobbing. Paddling. Still afloat.
A surge of renewed hope.
Safety in numbers. He swam on.
That big, beautiful bird. The Minnesota Loon.
He will find peaceful blue water.
Bobbing. Paddling. Still afloat.
