in that dark room
Of shadowed histories

the Snake smiles,
and raises a glass-
the Blood on his hands
dripping onto clean cloth.

the Sparrow watches on;
Caged in her own regret.
her face is a blank Mask.

the Fawn gazes across a
would-be bright future.
trees and grasses Glow
With promise and dreams.

THEY run the World.
the rest of -us- suffer through;
raised by Hope,
cut down by Snakes.

She sleeps
In the bright meadow
Under the sunny oaks,
maples, pines.

The darkness closes in.
Still,
She sleeps
And the guardian watches on.

Above..., and beyond, they fly,
Betwixt Earth and Sky,

When the Sun smiles, these beautiful creatures,
Feathers fully feeling the wind, are reality

On high, at once message, messenger,
Relentless, irreplaceable, forward, wild,

As between the profane and sacred,
In the mundane, realism, we walk.

between the mountains and rivers
the city grow before my eyes
a tornado of dust crippled the forest
a monster of garbage swallow the seas
ignorance blinds the eyes of mankind
greed eats their hearts
they care not the mother nature
but power and egoistic desire
what is there left
for the next generation
when fish dies
before their mother's eyes
when animals are hunted
and gone extinct
trees are cut down
and left the barren land
what is there left
for the next generation
what is there left

in our time
we think we know
most animals of the world
from films and videos

yet
seeing
an echidna come out of the underbrush
about to cross the road
but then
    looking at all the cameras
deciding to quietly go back home for a while

watching
a young humpback whale
launch her tons out of the sea
in the sheer joy of breaching
falling back in a white splash
that sends your boat rocking

feeling
the hard back of a wombat
    under its thick coat of hair
the soft fur of a koala
the cool skin of a blue-tongued lizard

feeding
a wallaby whose sharp claws
tenderly hold your hand
so that the food
            does not go away too soon

hearing
the swelling maniacal laughter
     of a flock of kookaburras
a pied butcherbird‘s
     unbelievably melodious call
    
you become aware
they are living beings
     not just images on the screen

and the little hairs
    on the back of your neck
    rise
    in shock and awe
of life‘s beauty