Gouldian Finch

Golden streaks of light,

Slither up the trees,

Raging smoke mimics,

Laughing among the breeze,

I, The Gouldian Finch,

Stare forlorn,

As I see my world before me,

Swallowed up and torn,

Like crocodile teeth my claws gnaw,

Buried deep into the branch’s core,

I lay amongst the quivering heat,

Locked in my own oven of defeat,

But piercing my grief is cornflower sky,

A stairway of hope reaching way up high,

Hands of fate descend from above,

And my claws slide from their iron glove,

My wings extend and start to shiver,

Like vigorous blades they begin to quiver,

Dreaming of flocks gliding away,

Can we survive another day?