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The Elephant Mother

Abandoned by his mates and cast out of the pride

The lion was battered and lame and knew that soon he would die.

He watched the young calf with a hungry eye

As it tumbled and played in the grass near by

His senses had left him and this made careless and bold

His only thought now was survival because he was starving and old.

The calf played and had no fear,

But danger was waiting and very near.

He was very young and full of glee

And not enough sense to turn and flee

He screamed and jumped with fright and pain

As the old lion leapt and slashed at his jugular vein.

His mother heard his anguished cry

As she grazed on the lush green grass nearby

She flew to him with a long and ungainly stride.

Just in time to see him stagger and fall on his side.

From his open throat she saw the blood pump and spurt.

And somehow she knew he was mortally hurt.

She took the whole scene in at a glance,

The old lion tried to run but never had a chance.

She caught him as he ran around

And with her trunk pounded him into the ground.

She kneeled on him then gored him

Then she ripped him and tore him

She struck at him again and again out of hatred and fear,

Till there was nothing left but a bloody red smear.

The calf tried to lift his weakening length,

But cried out in alarm at his failing strength.

His mother turned in desperation and sorrow,

To lift her baby and for him her strength to borrow.

The rest of the herd gathered without a sound,

And watched her as she tried to bring him ‘round.

She knew this little mite was without sin,

With her trunk, in love and pain she tenderly caressed him.

As he lay on the ground with a whimper and a sighing

In her heart she knew her baby was dying.

Again he tried to raise his weary head

But as his strength left him he fell back dead

She raised her trunk and screamed to the sky.

Why was it her baby had to die?

She trumpeted in agony and dark despair.

Now that he was gone she had no one to care.

All she could look forward to was a long and lonely waiting,

Because now she was past the time of mating.

In her burned a smouldering and fiery rage,

Because she was no longer young and past the age,

When she could experience the joy and pride

Of a boisterous youngster running at her side.

To her he’d been like a bright and fragrant flower

Now she stood guard over him hour after hour.

Day turned into night and night into day,

But still she stood and nothing could take her away

Somehow she hoped he would possibly awaken

But in her heart she knew her baby had been taken.

 

The herd grazed in sympathetic silence,

Knowing that she could at anytime explode into violence.

The young calves were kept away and out of sight,

For it was they who could provoke and make her fight.

Her tragedy was made all the worse,

Because for her time was now a curse.

 

In nature life is not always fair.

Her agony was heavy and almost impossible to bear.

Out of a bright clear and cloudless day

Death had struck and taken her baby away.

But after three days of guarding and waiting,

She was exhausted and thirsty and near to fainting.

 

The females of the herd led her tenderly away

Into the dawn of a new born day.

They took her to the river where she drank her fill.

Then led her through the forest and over the hill.

Time would never giver her a new start,

But time they knew would heal her broken heart.

 

So the herd drifted out onto the plain,

Not knowing when tragedy would strike again.

Even in the mighty Kruger Park often came pain and strife,

In Africa it was an accepted way of life.

Survival of the fittest was one of nature’s flaws,

But even great elephants were no exception to these laws.