The Sunbird

By Kayin Borang

A sunbird shelters, the harbinger of spring;

It dwelt on the crooked sill and sang for me.

Upon her frame, a crimson scarf clung,

Once a glacial morning from the yonder tree.

A rainy dawn, where rime drench my soul,

While harrowing the latent grief.

But her fiery carol thawed the frosty toll

And cordial cloak, she gently weaves.

A charming gaze on the wooden pane,

Whispers sweetly to the core in ache,

While subtly reaching her feathers and crane,

Away from the sill to skyward, she breaks.

And a thousand mornings, I beseech,

If the sunbird croons for the rest of eternity,

Cradling with glee and sadness impeach,

In the early hours, from the yonder tree.

By Kayin Borang