Hunters become devout pilgrims,
Travelling with deepwater- placid dedication.
Vultures as prophets soar.
Side by hot bodied side,
In cold ocean tide,
We measure our histories,
Play, or not,
Our courts and cards.
Dawn’s light will, anyway,
Cast us as rivals, losers or lovers.
If everything here seems upside down,
The sun too hot,
The days too long;
Somewhere else, have never a doubt,
It will be just right,
The rocks will be ice,
The children fed.
24/1/2013
Rocks of ice sound slippery and cold! But they could melt like hearts of stone. Sue
A beautiful way with words, I feel you are saying the grass seems greener elsewhere ??
Susan
I was watching the BBC TV series Africa – maybe you have been watching it too – captivated by the penguins in South Africa …
nesting in hot sun on rock, quite un-natural (but definitely not if you see what I mean) – the other fragments are also from the proramme – which I found inspirational; loving wildlife, appreciating the photography –
and getting “wordrd up” into the bargain – appreciate your comment, thanks for dropping by.
Aha the words all fall into place when taken in the context of that prog. Which I really love. always watch wild life
susan