As Horus' great discus touches the horizon, <br />A kind of calmness descends on the plains <br />And for a moment in time the world stands still. <br />Zebra calf nestling against his mare's rump; <br />Likewise young wildebeest and infant gazelle. <br />Giraffe tries to look unobtrusive on the foliage edge <br />Blending with shadows, his legs splayed wide. <br />Flocks of birds against the golden sunset, <br />Skimming treetops, heading home to roost. <br />Dung beetle desperate to finish his day's work <br />One more push, one last shove and labour ends. <br />An almost audible sigh as the sun disappears. <br />Venus raises her baton and the bushveld symphony starts: <br />Crickets on banjo, mosquitoes on violin and beetles on drum, <br />Frogs on variations of soprano, bass and alto <br />And a staccato of tenor provided by owls. <br />A slight breeze springs from nowhere <br />And ruffles savannah grass into whispering tales, <br />Stories of the day and stories of countless yesterdays long gone, <br />Perhaps even a hint of what the new day will bring.<br /><br />Lisa Pringle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bushveld-reverie/
