Sunlight

with Flute (no Piano)

Sunlight

Each day yawns like a genesis, ribs ripped
from heaving chests with bloody tenderness.
Trees laden with ripe bodies, the fruit drips
its juices in crystalline drops of honey.

The nectar and blood mingles, creating pools
of sunrise paint palettes meant to color the sky.
I stand as lone witness of the carnage
and growth, of savage beauty.

Stars sacrifice their bodies for new worlds;
golden flecks move with explosive dancing
into the core of a blue planet--
where one morning, a girl will write a poem
and the sunlight will be true.

-Lily Bane