The Safari

The golden dust, the scent of coming rain, The rising sun on the vast and open plain. A canvas painted in ochre, green, and gold, A story ancient, and so bravely told. The engine hums, a low and patient sound, As the jeep goes searching for hallowed ground. A silhouette of giraffes, tall and serene, A living image on a wild and endless scene The mighty lions, a sun-soaked tawny pride, Hidden in the grasses where their instincts guide. A leopard's shadow, elusive and so rare, Sliding through the thicket with a quiet, watchful stare. The trumpeting echo of the elephant's call, As families wander, moving free and tall. A wildebeest stampede, a blur of motion swift, A thundering promise, a primal, moving gift. And when the twilight paints the sky anew, With fiery hues of crimson and deep blue, The campfire crackles, a low and steady glow, With jackals barking in the dark, and stars that grow. The stillness settles, vast, deep and wide, The wildness stirring, with nowhere left to hi...
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Trees In The City

 

In forests of glass and steel,

the modern trees take root,

with silent, deep foundations,

and branches reaching for the sun.


Their trunks are polished granite,

their bark a shimmering facade,

each window a small leaf

that glitters in the urban shade.


They whisper with the wind,

a low and humming drone,

of elevators rising,

of whispers on the phone.


Through veins of tangled wires,

and pipes that carry life,

the current flows and pulses,

relieving daily strife.


No nests are built within them,

just floors of busy hive,

where human dreams and dollars

struggle and survive.


They do not shed their foliage,

or sleep through winter's chill,

they simply stand and prosper,

obeying human will.


And though no birds may sing there,

or squirrels climb their height,

they stretch toward the heavens,

and catch the fading light.


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