Cry of the Wild

Wonderous foilage, plush and deep.
Glowing eyes, barely hear them creep.
Maybe a snake, into the earth it bore?
or perhaps a tiger, silent without roar?

"Fear! It's man!" cried from the top of the tree.
The limbs now rustle, creatures now flee.
"Wait I want to study you!", she cries;

but the creatures are doubtful, after all man lies.

Then from the silence a grayed gorilla appears.
"Just keep your distance,"
he says; "I still have my fears."
"You fear me! How could that be true?!
Why you're wild, ferocious! I'm much smaller than you!"

"Indeed you are smaller, but as for ferocious and wild...
man is no comparison, he beats us by a mile!
While lion and man both hunt and kill in a pack,
the lion is driven by hunger, man the joy of attack!"

"What you are saying of man sadly is right;
but some of us," she said "for you we will fight."

The old gorilla raised his head, paused and squinted both his eyes.
"Rumor has been told of man," he said "in whom such goodness lies.
You're the first I have seen, your kind comes seldom and few...
the earth would be much better, if there were more man like you."