June, 2006, I went on safari—an opportunity of a lifetime.  While the camera clicked, so did my mind.  I’d not "wordscaped" (escaped with words/written poems) since my book, Poetic Wisdom:  Revealing and Healing (1998).  But, patrolling the bush by jeep, the urge returned full force.  I saw no other way to jot down experiences of the moment, treasures not to be forgotten.

Though I took too long to type up these poetic souvenirs after the trip ended, the delay has had advantages.  On review, this poetry puts me back in the moment—that moment—seeming to stand the test of time.  Now, I’m curious to know others’ responses to it…

My first group of poems were created in Botswana, and appear in the order in which they were created.

 
1. Sweet Smells and Sights

Rosemary not Sage
Sage not Rosemary
A cross pollination, rare nasal sensation
Air that’s full of nature’s natural perfumes
Elephant dung and all
Piles of pancakes and pancakes in piles
Dumping grounds and grounds for dumping
What’s destroyed with the trunk tells more
Barely digested vegetation
Two hours and the meal’s passed
Each ingestion identifiable
Another species’ recycled delight.

2. Lion’s Lare

Lovely lioness howling for her friends
Napping, roaring, rolling the head
Fly infested face, camel colored coat
Lonely lion, in focused pursuit of his mate
Maine with black highlights, age creeping on
Well fed, a week’s food and drink
Swelled belly, but food not on his mind
Waiting, albeit impatiently
Letting the other male know his place
Setting the pace
Making sure the lioness stays in his space
Signals given
Everything else instinct driven
Territory defined.

3. Mélange

Cotton wool clouds, termite mounds
Baboons and zebras working their way around
A solitary giraffe feasting on leaves
Elephants tearing off all branches in sight—delicately
A lion glances up, but what’s behind the eyes
A gentle tap on the shoulder of an unresponsive mate
Let her sleep—for now
Flies irritate, even the king of beasts
A twitch of the ears, a shake of the head
Another little nap.

4. A Buffalo Giving Birth

Trackers full of mirth
Not a common sight
A moment of sheer delight
35 minutes to standing
Rest of herd disbanding
Mother waits patiently
Umbilical cord still hanging
Clean up fast
Yum or yuck, however you want to take it
Nature at her best.

5. From Small Plane to Small Plane

By jeep, canoe, speedboat and barge
On a sunrise helicopter ride or
Mid-morning stroll
To bird-spot, foot-print track, or poop inspect
A surprise around every corner, or simple peace and quiet
interrupted by the throttle of a stop-start engine

Spotters congregate around amorous lions
or a buffalo giving birth
Radio to radio, the news is out
There’s an elephant without a tail
or remains of a fresh lion kill

An afternoon or evening
with little wildlife visible
Just because we’re there
They don’t have to be

Three days in the life of the bush.

6. Territorial Changes

New ranges
A matter of luck and timing
Keeping your eyes open
or just taking in the scents, sounds, and food
Oh yes, the food
Large small meals four times a day
Breakfast, brunch, high tea, and dinner
Nothing to do, except enjoy
Laundry service included
Tents with terraces

Luxury in a land that’s otherwise been dealt a rough hand
Painful to understand.

7. Sleepless Night

Bathing hypo, squelching through the mud
close by the tent
Roaring lions, communicating back and forth
Sounds near, but probably far—up to 7 k
They have their way

"Surprise rain" beating down
Malarone dreams intensify 
Happenings and personalities, at home or on the trip
All jumbled up

Idle chatter of vacationers trivializing the experience
Disturbing peace of mind, interrupting nature

Leave your own culture home
My frustrated heart pleads
They’ve paid for the trip
But have no licence to quip

Serenity and appreciation come from inside
In superficialities, there’s no room to hide.

8. Downpour

Lioness with cubs
Baby, baby elephants
Cheetah feeding on prey
Rain pouring
Dusk falling
Photos hard to capture
The rapture of the moment
Experiences to savor.

9. Elephant Parade

Night falls
Camera lens away
Not recorded on film
In our minds and hearts

A parade of elephants 30/40 long
The weak, the strong
Tiny little babies
Calves still weaning
Sheltering underneath their mothers
The whole troop trunk to trunk
Tail to tail
Bouncing focused gait
Heads bobbing
Ears flexing
They know what they’re doing
Each takes a turn
To move in, or to back off
Rules followed
A quick drink, turn of the hind
And it’s back up hill

The watering hole
As quickly as it was surrounded
Was vacated

A magical twenty minutes
On our last night in the bush.

10. Finale

A herd of giraffes
Long searched for
Over bumpy tracks
From behind bushes

A straggler sighted here or there
The top of a head
A hind and tail
From too far away to zoom in on
Wondering if we’ll ever find more
Their migration begun
Perhaps we’re done

One bend more and here they are
One, two, three, four heads
Long, short, in between
Light brown, dark brown
Leaf-like patterns
Heart-like shapes
No two with the same markings
All with the same grace and poise
Without noise
Save the crunching and munching

Leaves and branches moving
It seems of their own accord
Till two ears pop up
But no time to wait for the face
Must pick up the pace

Radio signal in
Two cheetahs sighted
Engine ignited
Off road and through the brush
It’s a real rush
Park regulations broken
But no word will be spoken
It’s all about seeing the cheetahs
Getting close

Two predators’ recovery from a failed kill
Brothers we’re told
One with an infection in his leg
The other providing him with prey

For us, a special photo op.
Another species checked off the list
Group can go home now!

11. Bushmen Paintings

A short climb
Up the only rock in the neighborhood
Bushmen paintings, our prize
Four small, simple animal depictions
From centuries gone by
A chance to use our limbs
Take in the view
Be in the environment that we’ve only been driven through
Feel closer to the life and land
That has welcomed us so warmly.

12. Zebra Herd

You made my day, week, month, year
Zebra calves and elders
as far as the eye can see
Tall grass, short grass
A few trees
Much dead wood
A buffet for them and us
Groupings criss-cross
Loners with unique stripes
Notice the pale grey in between the black and white
How some are blacker than others
How some are whiter than others
Not out of shape, emaciated, or overweight
Then there’s the one with the bloody gash, upper hind leg
A lion’s loss, our gain
A wound that will heal, or so we’re told
Re-integrated in the fold
Dusk falling across the plane
Pink sunset straight ahead
A wondrous way to end a safari.

13. Eat, Procreate, Defecate

Procreate, defecate, eat
Defecate, eat, procreate

And so the cycle goes on
And on and on

Animals know where it’s at
What matters
And doesn’t

They like their games, and to fight
Have much or little might

Big or small
They know what to do
Then we step in

The smartest critters of all
But, are we really?

p.s.  For more recent African Poetry, please check out blog entries about DocSusan’s Kilimanjaro Cimb (9 poems) and Tanzania Safari (16 poems).  The two new series were started December 2, 2007.