Thursday, 5 July 2012

The magpie's canvas

Before the curtains are drawn
and light can enter the mind -
the day fresh and uneaten;

before the lover’s hand
can alight upon the shoulder’s blade
and stir sleep into action,

the feathered artist
warbles aural paint across the world.
Ears fill with the gravity
of a planet returned, a promise fulfilled.

The eucalypt are greened and greyed,
the sun given its yellow haze;
the sky, with each trill and cadence,
returned from night into blue.

Head upon pillowed dreams,
I hear the artist’s work;
know the world
is made whole in the dawn.

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