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Kruger Blues...

I am not a poet, but this is how I feel:



When I am there -
all sorrow disappears, the past does not exist.
I forget who I am, what I was and why I was like that.
There is no anger, no hurt, no tears or even a memory of anything that should not have been...

There is only now and the wonderful unpredictable next.

When I am there -
My soul laughs, my blood bubbles, my heart celebrates and my eyes are filled with life.
I am in heaven...

I know why the caged bird sings.

I know why the caged bird sings becuase simply i am the caged bird who sings away every morning and every night. What is my song. This is what i sing.

This is the nice life but that still doesn't put my heart to rest. For my heart lies in the bush beating away to the sounds of Impala barking, the sounds of lions gorging. My heart to beating to the rythym of the bush. It's pinning to be present in that joyful land once again. I am an empty shell when i have been taken away from my place of refuge. I need the bush soon. I know why the caged bird sings.

Thankx.

Timbo.

Dear God,
right now I am very sad.
I am trying not to hear the cry,
the cry of the dying.
I do not want to hear the smothered buffalo,
so strong,
so brave.

I do not want to hear the cry of the impala.
I do not want to be filled with it's beauty,
being led to sacrifice.
I do not want to feel their fear.

I do not want to taste
metal on my tongue.

I do not want to
feel my heart beat
beat and break
against my rib
cage.

Why is it,
dear God,
that what releases my tears,
fills my desire.

I do not understand.

When I look at such pain,
I know,
I could only trust
a God
who knew
the raw taste of metal,
the taste of fear,
of fear
and of
pain.

For Pardus...

The moment in time stood still,
As our eyes met,
You, I am...
I am you.
Are we one?
Golden-brown, soft and furry
slender and agile,
Where have we met?
Where shall we go?

I know, we met in my thoughts.
A flick of a tail,
the twitch of a whisker,
The softness of a stare,
But, beware, I am cunning
I am sly, I growl, I purr...
I love the dark, the night is
my partner, my companion!
My footprint, my voice, you know.

I take life, warm, red and alive,
my grip is strong, I am a survivor!
Life as I see it from my resting place
the branches of a tree, perhaps?
I reach high, I jump far,
I will always find a way, my way
Playfulness, kindness and a sense of
ruthlessness, perhaps?
When I look at you...

I see you,
Our love affair is old, yet timeless,
Soil, earth, bush, tree,
rain, wind and sun.....
Dappled colours, gold, brown, spots of black,
Illusive, but always there......
We have met,
Somewhere.

Panthera pardus

Hey Pardus,

I am so happy to see
What Spring can be
changing a feline "hairdo"
making her look great too!

Oh, I so adore your curls and mane
You must have gone through a lot of pain
I can see nothing was in vain...
You go Pardus!
I love you poem about the rain.

I asked Deebs to resurect this thread. I didn't even know such a thread existed, but I knew of the fantastic talent forum members had in their prose with the trip reports, their excellence in photography, and the very funny Limericks thread, to name a few.
so don't be shy folks. We'll try and keep it wildlife and Sanparks related...so here goes

The Circle

She had her kits the other day
The pain intense soon went away
Her eyes and ears alert for prey
They’d live to hunt another day

Her time was now ‘neath golden sun
Her time is done and his begun
His struggle, life, it holds the key
To all that he will ever be

She walks on silent pads of four
Through grasses tall and swaying
And hears the haunting hungry call
A zebra softly braying

All hair and fluff and gangly legs
He tries to see the pattern
His mother’s milk will save him now
But no one else will have him

Her ears are low she smells her dish
Her flanks like iron, her tail a twitch
Beneath the hot red African sun
The grasses part the end begun

Our zebra dies that faithful day
A dreadful end tho some might say
She fed a family and did her best
To see the circle come to rest

My Dream.

I close my eyes and there is a vision before me,
one of hope, peace, tranquility and joy.
It flashes through my mind but never leaves me,
bringing a feeling of longing but yet embracement.

I am dreaming of a place where I belong,
a place which belongs within me,
a place which seized my mind,
which determines my thinking and changes who I am.

I am thinking about vast open plains,
with waves of elephant grass,
the outstretched arms of a Baobab,
grabbing at clouds in the sky.

I see a stark rock face with caves and crevices,
offering shelter to all who seek,
the knotted fingers of a rock fig,
reaching to waters below.

I smell the fresh earth after rain,
the scented flowers of wild gardenia,
the mist of a waterfall,
caressing the rocks by her side.

I hear the gentle voice of elephant,
the soft bray of a newborn impala lamb,
the laughing of a lone hyena,
the muted call of a buffalo with death in its voice.

I feel the cool morning breeze gently touching my skin,
the mighty roar of lion, quivering through my bones,
the breath of Mama Africa,
as her voice falls on my soul.

I know that this is a place
where crocodile can bask in the sun,
where the jackal may call at night,
where the lioness can stake her claim.

I realize that this is not just a dream,
it is not only a vision,
it is an eternal heartbeat I feel,
because Africa lives within me.

Selati Train Bridge

On Selati Bridge
The red sunset’s glow
Sends crisscrossed shadows
On the waters below

As day turns to night
The hot rails are cooling
As day’s last light fades
The bush birds are cooing

Beneath the old bridge
The Sabi still flows
Full moon like star shine
Makes black waters glow

The day is now done
As days long ago
Steel rusted in sun
Ghost whistle will blow

Marsh rocks and grasses
Sweet smells will arise
Sabi’s breath blowing
As Africa sighs

Hey, a place for thoughts written in essence of emotion

Just a few days before ol' wildtuinman and the rest of the Duke Pack went and broke off Duke's left tusk (for a souvernier, I gather) we ran into the old (intact) iconic ellie and sat with him for about four hours. I told Lillian then that he looks well over his best and that we will probably not seen him like this again. As the events of the lost tusk unfolded I was saddened by the accuracy of my "prophecy". I wrote "Prayer for a tusker" as part of my trip report, so it will not be new to a lot of forumites, however, this thread is a grand place to "archive" my notes...

The breeze is diverted by the draughts of your breath
and the casual flapping of your ears starts the whirlwind.
With the rumbling of your belly and your thrilling trumpet
you fill the skies with the spreading sounds of triumph.
Bugle the bold notes, let the wild harmony ascend
across the vastness of the African savannah until,
insidiously, the strains decay and melt away,
in a dying, dying diminuendo.

It is new that there are so few of you
and my kind is the cause of your demise.

In your innocence you leave no lasting signs in your wake.
Your brushstroke on the canvas of time is compassionate.
May we humans learn the sympathy in your vast shy heart.
so that our passing too will leave only the kind mark
of patience and compassion on this abode we share.
Let death not be accorded any significance so that we,
as old friends, can expect to continually meet
each other again and again.

Few of you are left and your loss will be felt,
perversely by my kind who caused your demise.

How about a song then?

If anyone would like to add verses, please feel free...subject to my approval of course.

Kruger
* sung to the tune of “Calypso” by John Denver*


The sunlight is fading, the camp fires glowing.
This is the end of a glorious day.
We tell of our sightings, encounters and stories.
We leave nothing out lest they all fade away.

Hail to park Kruger, we sing to your spirit
The things that you’ve shown us, you’ve shown us so well.
Hail to park Kruger, your legend continues
In memories you give us, in stories we’ll tell.

We travel the dirt roads, we travel the tar roads.
Your family so many, you’ve hidden so well.
We feel the adventure, the honor and glory.
We glimpse of your treasures, through grass in the veldt.

Hail to park Kruger, we sing to your spirit
The things that you’ve shown us, you’ve shown us so well.
Hail to park Kruger, your legend continues
In memories you give us, in stories we’ll tell.

I drove through Kruger & what once brought warmth to my heart
and a smile to my face,
now brings sorrow to my heart
and tears rolling down my face.

I cry for you my elephants.

I find myself driving past, not stopping to watch you
I can not bear the pain thinking I might never see you again.

I cry for you my elephants.

I failed you, I am part of a new generation,
suppose to be advanced, advanced in failure.

Something for all of us to think about,WH.

When I think of the plight of the elephants...or any of the animals really... I think of how small our world is getting and how much space we humans really take up.
And when I think of Africa I can't help thinking that the circle of life is so relevant in the wild, it is the unspoken rule. One must die so others will live. some of my thoughts reflect this.


Untitled

The hot sun beats down, turns the grasses to gold.
Heat from the earth causing visions to fold.
With a flick of her tail, her location is told.
You gaze with her gaze to the wonders foretold.

With the aid of false eyes, you see her intent.
The big cat approaches, heat’s vision is bent.
Her age is apparent, her life nearly spent.
Mother Africa is calling, from where she was sent.

On the night the old ellie died
they called the herd there to his side

He told them tales of long ago
when no one told them where to go

When wire wasn't strung up in fences
to keep them in and shock their senses

The bushveld came to pay respects
they knew his death they must accept

He's been gone for many long years
his tales still told through misty tears

Well, I hate to hog the space but thought this might be timely. I hope you all think so to...


Lord Lion

Long, long ago in a veldt upon the great plane there was a very wise and old beast. His flowing mane was thick with age and colored with the silver of wisdom…and he was sad. He roamed the vastness of the veldt and all in his path were in awe. His power and might were legend, and his foes were few, and yet…he was sad.
One day when the sun was laying down for her much needed sleep, and the night was beginning to wake, the Mother came to the beast and asked “Why are you so sad Lord Lion, for I have made you king of all the beasts in your world?”
And Lord Lion looked up to the Mother and said, “Mother. You have made me strong so I may defeat my enemies. You have given me eyes that see in the night and strength to hunt and kill and eat. Wherever I go your creatures bow to me, but none will lay down with me.”
At this Lord Lion looked up to the night’s shining light and with a mighty roar let loose a single great tear. The Mother seeing this felt sadness for Lord Lion and swept up that single tear and flung it to the heavens saying, “Let this tear be a star and this day be a symbol that no man, nor beast, may be sad this night.”
At this the clouded sky did clear and all the stars in the heavens did shine down upon the veldt. Long grasses turned golden and all manner of beasts arrived to join Lord Lion, in love and with no fear, and all were in awe of the Mother who gives all life.
And together with all the beasts Lord Lion felt his heart soften and knew this special time would come again, one special night when all would be safe, and could lie down together.
Tonight, look up to the heavens. Gather your loved ones near and think of Lord Lion, a star, and a tear.

I hate posting after myself...but in the interest of bumping this thread up so mites can see it, I thought a little inspiration might be in order so...

How many great gems were lost to thought
and not put down to pen.
You can but think of just a few
and then they're lost again.