Many beings
fly through air,
They don’t
have to crawl on land
Or climb in
trees
Or swim in rivers,
lakes or seas.
There are
bats, bugs and birds,
Up there.
And frogs
and squirrels may glide
On wings of
stretched skin.
Landlocked apes
like us
Have always looked
up enviously
Since when
we try to fly
We always
fall disastrously.
Oh, how we yearn
to be
A vulture
circling, a falcon stooping
A swift
slicing air like a blade.
But our big-brained
heads
Are heavy
with thought
So, we stay
stuck on the floor
Yet, we have
hands
So we can
throw
And this is
what we do.
Sticks, stones,
and bones take flight,
Then followed
by, when we knew how,
Spears,
slingshot and arrows
After that rockets, musket balls,
Bullets, planes and bombs
Flew to send
Billions to
their tombs
Thus, it is
our landlocked yearnings
End up
setting our own cities burning
Wouldn’t it
have been
Much, much
better
If we’d just
looked down
Like anteaters.
No comments:
Post a Comment