Reborn With Love

They lie discarded, dead, forgotten Motionless upon the ground Waiting for the winter solstice In the cold and wet to come around. Some are big and strong with power Could have held a bridge high up in the air While others are an arthritic, thorny waste Lying in a crippled disrepair. Yet the motor bike, with chain and rope, Treats each of them the same Dragging each into the middle of the paddock Where they'll meet their final flame. And on that night they burn so bright Reaching right up through above And we all toast a wine to the earth Giving rebirth with all our love.