Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Thunder Birds – A poem

The birds of life gather above the thunder storm,
Peering at the Earth below, to pick on the stragglers,
Like cats pouncing on unsuspecting victims!

While people go on their daily rounds, little
Do they realise that the thunderbirds await the moment
To pounce on those who in sleep waste a moment!

And the graceful birds surf the winds, spiralling in circles,
Silent predators who swoop to Earth, to make a kill,
Of those who partake of a race of will!

For, as long as men do partake of a race to survive,
The thunderbirds do wait for  a sign of weakness,
As the world does engage in a battle of wits!

While I, the spectator do watch as men engage in a race,
Where victors do trample the losers underfoot,
Like machines that grind aspirations to pulp with a hoot!
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All the while do the thunderbirds watch the sad scene below,
Where men and women do trample each other to pulp,
With no thought of others to help!

For so has the world today become, a mad rush to reach,
The finishing line so close yet so far,
While competition conviction in fair play does mar!
animals,bald eagles,birds,flying,mountains,nature,wings,soaring
All the while do the thunderbirds swoop picking struggling victims
In beaks that appear sharp and cruel,
But blame I not the birds that hunt to fill stomachs full!

For have men and women become oh so cruel, to make a killing,
Worse when men do fight each other to reach
The finishing line, to breach!
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All the while do the Thunderbirds  skim  thermals so strong,
Watching the scene below, of students and professionals
Trampling others, surging to the finish  in a battle of kills!

But then sing a song that celebrates the Thunderbirds so graceful,
For I don’t blame them, the birds, for making a kill,
Their sharp bills but machines to kill!
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While, I all the while do watch a battle so cruel from the shelter
Of bricks and stones while my friends and others do race the race,
Of defeated wills and faith so weak, as they do fall without a grace!

And so did my friends did tell me a song to write, of birds that prey
On will so weak! But then did I write of the thunder birds that
Float on thermals so strong, as they gaze on men who each other fight!

The message I would give them would be to wait awhile, for a moment so
Right, for not to favour the thunderbirds with a meal so
Rich would mean to love one another with feeling so deep!
For why do we join a race so cruel, with completion so cruel,
As the thunderbirds  lazily do hunt with zeal,
On spirits weak and wounds that will not heal!
If life be one cruel race watched by the thunderbirds that sail the winds,
Will not men and women not realize that success deals with a team
That wins, so together they might fight the birds of prey that sail the  winds?
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