Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
Every day I climbed the hill, rugged up tight against the bite.
Early risers all around me, a Deer would race from sight.
The Wallaby would freeze before me, silhouetted before the budding light.
I took my place in that early light, and waited for first sight.
I waited for the show, the sun’s arrival, all aglow.
Putting on its picture show, projecting its colour’s, I watched them grow.
Every day I saw these sights, admired so much their beauty and might.
But never so much, the arrival I waited, that of the humble bird in my fable.
For every day I climbed that hill, was a day the Magpie would fly her drill.
And a day I looked on, admiring her skill.
Expert scourer, search she did, I watched her execute her perfect search grid.
Perfect but for me, an impediment in her perfect plan.
A song, a squawk, both were shrill.
Time to start again at the bottom of the hill.
Again and again, day after day, we all braved the chill that was that hill.
Poison was I, she would not come close, my vicinity she would not mill.
I stayed still, she stayed stubborn, days went by, poison was I still.
Her trust I could not will.
Till the day she seemed to lose her way.
Both of us wide eyed to find her not a meter away…
Eye contact made, a moment of silent stillness played.
She squawked and flew away.
Still, the floodgates may have opened that day.
The next day I saw her, at the bottom of the hill.
I put down my head and picked up my quill.
Lost in words, I did not see, nor hear, nor feel.
All was still.
Minutes passed, then something changed.
I looked up, and was met with a beauteous thrill.
The sun behind her, ray’s a many.
My feathered friend before me, more beautiful than any.
There she stayed, a mere foot away.
Neither of us willing to look away.
The moment stretched, yet time stood still.
I relished the trust I was able to instill.
The moment ended, a beauty fulfilled.
She returned to her drill, and I to my quill.
That day was the last I was to sit on her hill.
A fitting end, the beauty of a trust instilled.
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