Elephants and Vulturine Guineafowl at Samburu, Kenya

To go into the valley

Of veering shadows,

Of iron bands,

Of clamps and traps,

That shut and close

All round and round,

Is to forget the very stars of being,

To leave behind the sound

Of the peal

Of the bells,

To lose touch with the bright soul

Of the elephant,

Who walks on the bank

Of the river of peace,

Yet, only the blank

Face

Of death will die, in the end.

For there, within the lilies on the shoal,

Among the green reeds and glimmering shells,

Live the lands

Of many

Worlds, clad in clouds of beauty,

Dressed in the lace caps

Of the blue sea,

And the silver rings of the brilliant

Moonrise,

There, where

The voice of the mother of eternity

Is calling, clear

As the waters that bend

Over the stones, and so, to hear

The pure song

Of the mountain air,

To watch only

The mist-winged pair

Of storks who take

Flight over the dawn lake

Is to belong

At last to the shining

Skies

Of innocence, ever real,

Beyond the rift of time and space.

September 19, 2010