The wood beacons me with quiet whispers,
whistling through leaves and branches bare.
Songs of ancient, enchanted trees
and spirits dancing in joyous delight.

A low moan in the night implores me,
inviting me deep into its glade,
to witness heaven’s masterwork
in awakening stars that light my way.

I feel the spirits, amidst the twilight’s mist,
embracing me, welcoming me.
My child dances joyously within
as I find my way back home.

Tiny petals, like flakes of snow
brush lightly against my cheek
Like a lover’s caress you kiss
my winter white skin.

Petals dance to the ground,
with each breath of wind,
swirling in elegant pirouettes,
heralding spring in newness of life.

Standing amidst the other gums,
in a land red orange with age,
you reach out your gnarled limbs,
outstretched to azure blue.

Gray, smooth bark belies your age,
your title, hard won among the saplings.
Through years of draught and culling fires,
you stood your ground.

In silence absolute, we drifted,
on the evening current,
beneath the hazy full moon
of a December sky.

Floating on night breezes,
our spirits awed, amazed.
Rock walls pulsating with life.
in a chorus of light.

Cliffs towering above,
draped in nature’s Christmas lights,
winking in turquoise and white,
as we passed beneath.

Entranced by this purity of creation,
guided by the river’s strength.
This magical night, so perfect and surreal
remains in breathless memory.

You died, slipping into my memory like the ghost you were.
I held you high on a pedestal, above the winds of change.
But time caught up to the friend you once were,
and you fell too far for me to catch.

Thoughts of what could be;
tomorrow’s possibilities
cut short by cruel destiny.

From halls of learning
ghosts of students past cry
through voices left behind
and rise up against the hate.

A voice crying out against oppression
could not be silenced.
The bullet felt, only strengthened resolve,
for those longing to be educated.

She called out from across the earth
to those in a dying world
wake, wake blind world:
wake to save yourself.

Beauty and strength roll off her tongue
breaking the haze that blinds us,
calling all to stand up and be brave enough.
Youth spoke, and her name was hope.