A felled oak

 

Like a felled oak

I lay on that forest floor,

surrounded by the debris

of the person I was before.

I wish away a dream of bliss,

I kiss away a breath

from these aging lips.

I sit awaiting death.

Just a felled oak

with nothing left.

 

An insect lands inspecting 

my stretched-out limbs,

my hands pulling the sky blinds down

to block the rush of reality wearing thin.

That insect is joined, gradually

by sanctuary seeking

songbirds flocking

from the threatening

thunder clouds above.

I wish away hope

but realise I can never

wish away love.

 

The sky splits, Thors hammer hits.

Blam. Night is day and back again.

A magical sound

like wind chimes

playing a rousing refrain.

The rain falling between the leaves.

The surrounding trees

keeping me covered

from the worst

of this ripped open sky vein.

 

And the surge comes in,

not rainwater rushing,

but the forests neighbours

seeking refuge. Our friends,

feathered, furry or scaled,

small or big,

they all came,

and into my open arms

they hid

from the worst

of the storm.

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle