Smouldering Embers


Startled, I look up to see the textured branches
of the cherry blossom tree
gently swaying to and fro.

Awoken from my reverie,
I listen to the Zebra Finches merrily
calling out to one another as they prance
with ease from one branch to the next.

Such fluidity of movement, is a wonder to behold.

Yet on closer inspection, the trunk of the tree
is cracked like broken hearts, a spiderweb network  of delicate, fragile lines
whose mockery of such beauty is vile, and bitter in my mouth.
The tree endeavoring to hold those merry jumping birds –

Whose crimson breasts house a breathing fire.

And when that mighty crack whips throughout the silent forest,
they take off – tiny fluttering wings.

The tree broke like shattered glass.

And the pieces fell to the floor, lost in time…
As the cherry blossoms floated around me, softly touching the now-roughened ground.

Yet from the wreckage, a single leaf flowered.

 

 

 

Timor Broide
5 April 2011

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