Within

Within nature I rest,
in the morning sun that awakens beautiful
creatures of the morning
in a harmonic ensemble.
I feel whole again
watching a petite, yellow-silked, feathered
weaver bird eat side by side with
an unknown human almost brotherly like

So small, tiny and fragile it is
But within the physical body
there is a soul so courageous and bold.
So determined to reach that single piece of bread crumb

It will fly closer and closer,
until it is a mere beak away
then swatted back like a
filthy deranged pest.

Some leave; ashamed at their failure.
The very few stay to persevere
and win nourishing success.

Motivate by this success
they return to lie in their own
intricately woven nests,
hiding away from prey and predator

they think…

Nightfall comes rapidly with
the pickling cold breeze
but withing the last few minutes of lights
the birds must hide from the rising shadows.

The predator set in to own the night
concealed in darkness to complete their deeds
and leave the bony scraps to unforgiving,
merciless but careful vultures.

The irony in which even the civilised of animals
follow the same livelihood as those of all people,
of Africans.