I, Silky Oak
By Ava L
Published 29 June 2023
I sway in a bitter breeze
under the crisp sunrays
As the joyful choir of bees
Concludes their melodic humming.
The pebbles scattered across the stream
are chill to the touch and clear the brain
As problems wash astray in the frigid creek
and mundane life seems so far away.
Leave me in these bleak beams of light
Let me die as all things do
My hair shrivels up and floats in flight
But worry not; I’ll come back for you.
For streaks of gold will spring to life
adorning my reviving corpse;
Stretching, swirling veins of fire
that burn away the thorns.
The choir of galahs will resume
as I sway in an awakening breeze.
And the ardent sun rays melt my tomb;
And I soak up the light, waiting for the cycle to resume.