The creature darted across the earth reborn
Past the genesis of hyacinths and puccoons
Skating through the canopies of dancing foliage
Until he reached the surface of the swaying water
And faded away into the verdure of Mother Nature.
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The forest was on fire,
And the little bird did not know what to do
He was a cardinal after all, of noble birth.
But the heated dance soon touched his wings
The flames in their vintage scarlet.
But they did not singe his plumage
Rather, they pooled in his heart, and stayed.
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He stayed frozen underneath the thumb of ice
Staring up at the eternal tunnel cruelly presented to him
Watching as liquid sapphires would gently slide past him
The fellow was a victim of the vicious cycle
Waiting to hatch like a chick from the robin’s egg
But he enjoyed the solitude
Waiting for the gloom to crack.
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Someone had broken the jar of honey
Dousing the countryside in brilliant glory.
A poor man could walk these hills and be wrapped in gold.
For he was an animal too, born and raised
Under the scepter of a primrose.
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