29 of 40

by Linda Sorcie Smith

Jungle Song

In the jungle, throbs the beat
A changing, living pulse of sound
That chimes through every voice as
The song surges and wanes.
A chant of thanks for sunlight
Slanting through the trees,
The anguished sob of grief
By the side of a dying cub -
Lyrics quicken with the scent of prey,
And calm at mother's touch.
New suitors strut and preen
Strong clear solos, while, hidden,
An aged one sighs his last.
Trees moan and sway to the wind's
Tune, while rivers crash
Their way to bigger things.
Loud or soft, each voice sings
Ceaselessly, its tale
Of life in the jungle.

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Poetry: The jungle

by Linda Sorcie Smith

Poetry: The jungle

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