PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

eucalypt dawn

I  

wake beneath a lifting veil of mist,  

the world hushed in vesper-grey repose.  

Sunlight, a quiet pilgrim, hesitates  

on silvered trunks before breaking free.  

Each droplet trembles on a trembling leaf,  

a prism beacon for the waking birds.

II  

High calls thread through trembling boughs—  

a dawn chorus spun from pale notes,  

as gum tips glint with sacrificial light.  

I inhale the resin’s secret hymn,  

tickling the pulse of all that stirs,  

my breath entwined with ancient green.

III  

Here, time coils in ochre ribbons—  

sap-sweet arcs beneath peeling skin,  

where stories lodge in spiraled scars.  

I trace my finger through living bark,  

mapping loss and longing into rings,  

finding in each girth a memory’s weight.

IV  

The rising sun ignites a thousand flames  

across the eucalypt cathedral,  

casting filigreed shadows on the ground.  

I stand mid-aisle, heart spread wide,  

part congregation, part witness,  

as light consecrates the morning’s birth.

V  

Soft wind drifts down the wildwood aisle,  

a benediction through the honeyed air.  

My spirit, once adrift, roots itself  

in the tremor of green pulse and shade,  

anchored to land that hums beneath  

the circle of my steady feet.

VI  

I depart with amber fingers full of dawn,  

carrying the forest’s living mantra:  

to rise again, to hold each leaf  

with reverence, and to walk this earth  

as both pilgrim and devotee—  

breathing, always, the gum-tree’s prayer.