The First Light

In the First Light, I am stepping out into rays of golden sunlight, and I am floating through air that is buoyant with the songbird's melodies

And I feel beneath my feet the roots that tie me here, my arms raised above my head, my eyes the bright green leaves that drink in the warmth, and my fingertips that devour the rain pouring down around me.

Rough skin and calluses become bark that will deflect even the most fearsome of foe

Because I am here. Alive, in the First Light,

where the flowers bloom in tandem with the coming of the honeybees.

And here, in the First Light, you may cut me down and see an infinity of rings, but I will be reborn in the seeds that blow in the wind.

In the First Light, hope is the harvest and life is the norm.


Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Writing Contest.



14 years old

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