The Flower of my home

As the clouds dance in the sky,

There standing in the distance,

an elegant blood red flower catches my eye,

This is the flower of my home that brought it to existence.

As the bushfires reign once again,

Scars of brown cover the land,

No colour left, everything is plain,

Everything else is dead except one that will always stand.

Reminding me there’s always hope even in the darkest times, it shows me,

A symbol of resurrection,

It’s bloodlike colour shows me the suffering and sacrifices there can be,

But its lush green leaves show me it’s origin and it’s life reflection.

As the time has come,

The land has given to the plant,

The plant must give it to the land, its life, and a part of the land it shall become,

For every living thing has a beginning and an end and live forever it can’t be grant.

As a symbol of my home today falls,

It releases its seeds, its descendants to roam,

a new generation calls…
The Waratah will always be the flower of my home…