Elephant Walk

I'm on my daily routine walk.
Only solitude, no time to talk.

Though I can communicate very far,
I choose to be silent, during this hour.

My footsteps are heavy upon this place,
so I stick to the trail, with no disgrace.

For if I crush the smallest bud,
it is though I crush, my own flesh and blood.

For these trees are sacred to me,
my source of food and sanctuary.

My place of refuge in my old age,
the place where I can turn the page.

In my younger days, I pulled with might,
tore trees down, as if with spite.

But I was only doing my job.
For the barons that ruled to rob.

I'm on my way to the sea,
where I will bathe and breathe free.

To soothe my aching old bones,
dreaming of places we once called homes.

Those days are gone, but I am lucky,
they saved this place for me to be.

For without wild places like this,
I'd be gone and forever missed.
Rajan, asisn logging elephant, on morning walk

Rajan, 60 year old retired Indian
 logging elephant who occasionally
 swims in the Andaman Sea

Photo © Jody MacDonald
 National Geographic Magazine, August 2012


More Poems

My Place

Copyright 2012 © Ronald W. Hull


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