The Phoenix

I'll be nestled into the oak's crown.

Its wood hands will caress me as her child.

The moon will shoot a glance at me

From the dark sky poked with uncountable stars.

The calm breeze will make its leaves dance,

And my tired skin will come back to life.

Then I'll see a bird emerging from the landscape; Ablaze,

Fluttering her wings-

Like unfurling a truth,

And she will sit on one of the oak's hands beside me

Glowing with fire in the dark.

Then I'll say,

"I've waited for your fire all this while,"

Then her fire will take a powerful shade of orange.

"I'll never let you go, my beloved,"

I'll say as my cave eyes will glow watching her flame.

She will embrace me with her wings, and I'll not be an ordinary owl then.

I'll be a burning one- burning with the fire of requited love.

"I'll never let you go," I'll say again,

And the oak tree will witness our union

While she will repeat the same.

But now I'm only an owl that dwells in the dark

Awaiting the phoenix's arrival.

A day passes like a year 

Yet no fire lights up my eyes.

The writer is a grade 11 student of Birshreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College.