The Great Oak
Child chilled by autumn dreary;
Cries into the early hours,
By her bed the flame cowers.
Awakens eyes dazed and weary,
To days grasp, vanquished by dark,
To hope and hold for song of lark.
Chased by dreams of fiendish creatures,
That dance and spring in tandem.
Euphoric with abandon,
With fever ridden eyes that feature
Immortal childom.
To dawn she sets upon:
Empowered by the promise of light’s security.
Stalks blindly down cold halls.
And upon the slopes fall,
A halo of purity.
Peaks and embraces the land;
Cobalt and peach expand
to conquer north, south and west.
Off she sets for the great oak.
An orchestra of feather and croak,
to perch and welcome with the rest.
She hoists and heaves,
To sit amongst the amber leaves
And thank the exaltation of the night,
And mourn the banished dark.
For womb’s memory had left its mark,
And Dawn’s embrace made it right.
The resurrected daughter of new day,
Til morning she would stay.
For wombs memory to favour the young
And shame the burdened, alls providence
To curse and tease, the contrivance,
A heaven of all earthly origins,
As sweet and comforting,
and temporal as the forbidden fruit
