They’re in the Same Zoo

Hastkaar Yantra based on medieval Rajasthani p...
Hastkaar Yantra based on medieval Rajasthani painting. Hallway wall-painting at Charles Correa’s Jawahar Kala Kendra in Jaipur, designed in 1993. Each of it’s 9 enclosed sections is named after a planet and display a variety of textiles, crafts, weapons, etc. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


They’re in the Same Zoo


Who owns the night?


Yes! It might be the owls


When they take flight.


Gliding noiselessly looking for prey,


Tirelessly searching till the break of day.


They dance in the darkness


Above the sheltering trees,


Spinning and swooping


Where no one sees.


But there are others who boldly emerge,


Out of shelters and lairs,


Ready to party


In the cool night airs,


Carousing wolves primp and preen,


Expecting to greet foxes


Who want to be seen.




Who owns the day?


It might be the eagles


See! High above they soar,


Looking for a big moment,


With a chance to score.


No time to dance, sing or play,


They have to be ready


If opportunity comes their way.


When neons shut down


And sunlight caresses the trees,


Fortunes are made


By eagles who seize.


Golden moments are in hand


For a bull or a bear


Making split second decisions


Like they really don’t care.




Who rules the night?


Is it the night owls


When they take flight?




Who owns the day?


Is it the eagles


Who work the hours away?




Denizens of the night


And citizens of the day


Keep the world spinning


By the roles they play.




It continues to be true


If they walk or fly,


They’re in the same zoo


Beneath the same sky.









Animation of the structure of a section of DNA...
Image via Wikipedia

Remember when we were kids,

You’d come and sit with me,

We’d talk about the world,

And everything we could see,


When we were a bit older,

I’d venture off with my friends,

But I knew you were watching,

And I couldn’t help but grin,


I loved to tease and please you,

In science I made your day,

When I said you had special genes,

They showed in your DNA,


Later your family moved away,

It almost broke my heart,

We had pledged forever together,

Suddenly we were a world apart,


That was then, but I saw you today,

Where did you get your DNA?

I loved you before you blossomed,

But I love you even more this way,


It didn’t just happen,

It didn’t just occur,

The way those genes came together,

It created quite a stir,


Whatever you’ve been thinking,

Only you were in my heart,

I was waiting for you to return to me,

I’ve loved you from the start,


I swear this was my best day ever,

Because you came to sit with me,

We talked about the world,

Then we checked if we still agree,


You wanted to discuss our former life,

And wondered if our love was true,

We sealed our vow with a kiss,

And you showed what it means to you.

Root Systems

A scenic photo taken near Madison, Wisconsin o...
Image via Wikipedia

Late at
night a storm blew through,

Shattering branches and even trees,

I listened
but there was nothing I could do,

For this was
not a common breeze,

Roaring and
howling as it stretched out wide,

The wind
faced me to make a direct hit,

Then it
threatened and heckled me as I hid inside,

A tremendous
crash, then all was quiet,

In the
silence a far off drum pounded,

But it was
only me, my heart answering a mighty tree,

It lay
uprooted, its heart exposed and sad to see,

stretched out east and west,

Torn from
the trunk in this latest test,

Much longer
than the branches above,

Now ripped
and torn much like my sordid life,

I’ve had root
systems of resentment and strife,

And one of
life’s major storms ripped me apart,

bitterness was no longer needed for support,

I could not
use the branches like a fort,

Hiding away
from the world,

Pouting because
there were things I could not get,

My gifts no longer
needed for growth,

I was wasting
away because I wanted my needs met,

My life was no
longer needed and I felt spurned,

My sarcasm
and expectations were ready to be burned,

The storms
of life had won,

My supports
had rotted and torn,

Yet from my
roots I was being reborn,

I realized
then I was more than a tree,

That life still
needed me,

if I became all I could be,

And released
the roots of bitterness,

And found
the keys to happiness,

I’ve heard healthy
roots in dry soil will not grow,

So my roots
will be where other lives flow,

From their
broken roots new life will begin,

than before, I’ll set the trend.





Let the Jungle Music Begin!

Coconut tree
Image via Wikipedia

Along the
beach this story begins,

With a
monkey in a coconut tree,

He scrambled
high to where the tree ends,

To make sure
I would see his interest in our safari,

Through the
jungle growth and to the plains,

We’d planned this trip and now one selection to make,

“Mr. Monkey,
I’ll take an oath, we’ve gone to great pain,

I hope you’re a music man, we’re ready for goodness sake,”

Off we went
with our band, playing marches as we went,

Past the
elephants trumpeting along, until we set up tents,

By banana
trees across the land the horns we did vent,

The drums
beat to the same song, under the direction of the Lion Prince,

All the
jungle sang in the night, the crocs slapped their tails,

laughed at such a sight while Cheetahs raced down the trails,

What a
safari it was all right, What stories, what awesome tales,

The animals
danced with all their might, jungle music never fails!

When I Was Young

When I Was Young

In my youth imagination was gold,

I was given all nature to behold,

Often alone with nothing to do,

The world on stage made its debut,

The squirrels laughed as they gave chase,

Around the trees at a dizzying pace,

Gold and silver were in my hand,

Continental armies were at my command,

The moon over the mountain top would peep,

While the worn-out sun went home to sleep,

Lightning bugs in summer lit my way,

 I danced barefoot as long as I could play,

Cicadas sang until they shed their skin,

By the creek a symphony would begin,

And frogs and crickets all chimed in,

Warriors and knights stood ready to defend,

The castles I made out of clay and mud,

I rushed to help if I smelled dragon’s blood,

The trees protected me with their leaves,

From pirates, monsters, and murderous thieves,

Oh, what summers I had, I wish I had more,

Because I was a king, though I was poor.

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