laanecoorie

A Kangaroo Mother’s Plea

As you sight your gun upon me, do you contemplate, what do you see?

Before the bullet enters me, know that my heart is full of need.

For you to understand - that I am no different to thee.

When you aim and before you fire look deep into my eyes, to see what we are.

This my last plea before I die, that you see your needs are no greater than I.

I too am of this earthly plain, heart to heart we beat the same.

So in my pouch then you will reach and find tucked deep,

a soul - Of no one will speak,

about the cruelty that you will batter upon her head,

and her not knowing why her life, has been so cruelly shed.

Upon my death I will have failed my baby who was resting, innocent, small and just so frail.

My child my child who will never be free to live a life like it was meant to be.

My love, my child, will cruelly be bludgeoned upon a nearby tree.

Not once, but twice, who is here to see?

When in the darkness there is only you, and ‘she‘.

A by-product of brutality the myths, and the soul-less dead!

That of her demise upon the rise I beseech you, please!

Open your heart, and your eyes.

My baby now has nowhere to hide, no mother in which to run, hop-and be wild.

So as you take her life - in vain, know her little body will contort in pain.

Her delicate bones will smash - and cannot sustain.

The cruel onslaught that is about to rain.

So before you send that bullet to seek, before I lie here life extinct.

Our kin and cousins dead at your feet, the meek, the mild and those who can not speak.

Remember there lies a spiritual link.

When you hug your kin, do see,

do tell thee as I bleed, the bigger picture you could not see.

It was beyond you to feel, that like you, my love was to live free -

baby and Me, as it was meant to be.

BANG!

I kangaroo, of No Home

I kangaroo dream of untroubled days.

Wide open spaces no need to be afraid.

Of the piercing lights prowling through the night-

seeking to strike upon the eyes filled of 'fright'.

I kangaroo, of No Home

Kangaroo blundering, stumbling untold.

Broken of bones - rendering of souls.

No mercy to be found, perished upon ground.

What are we to be?

Our namesake means nothing, to thee,

Upon this land of - ‘fair-go!’

I kangaroo, of No Home!