Wings of Paradise

I tread in Aussie’s Jungle

And you ask me what I see?

A single rainbow feather

Kneels solemnly before me.

I hike the sloping hill

Of rainbow lorikeets

The rival’s matching call

Stirs a grudge so bittersweet.

The forest offers plenty

To the thriving wildlife.

But the trees are getting felled

Now all that’s left is strife.

Of their shimmering cyan wings,

And their splashes of scarlet hues

What’s the trait that I desire most

To spy in the Peaks of Blues?