wind, take a bough

then send it crashing to the ground

water, flow slowly along

pummelling, pummelling, the rocks beneath the surface

smoothing their edges by sheer  weight of temporal force

little bird, glide smoothly through the air

then swoop, crashing through the water’s uncreased surface

and fly away once more, carrying death back to feed your children

blow, gentle cool breeze

upon the dying embers

breathing new life into them

breathing, breathing

and suddenly bursting into a hungry flame

which savagely devours every fresh new log in its path

lie there, harmless thorn, waiting, waiting

til an innocent foot finds a way to disturb you

and then leave disturbed

run, dassie, ran

stop for just a second to deposit a gift on the rocks

then scamper off to find some shade

noise, human, noise

with your machines and motor-powered vehicles

raising your instruments and your voices

talking, talking, just to fill the silence

to kill the silence

chasing away the solitude of this sound-filled nature seen