Touching elephants
The first night a large bull visited us at supper
delicately stepping the narrow space between us and our drinks table
we sat motionless, breathless,
as he examined the mugs with his trunk
and picked seeds off the table
for the next 3 days they were a daily presence
quietly visiting each one of us
close enough for us to see the hairs on the back of their feet
their eyelashes
immense bulks reaching for leaves over our heads
close enough for us to watch the infinite gracefulness of their trunks
selecting seed pods around our chairs
and we knew a deep sense our own vulnerability
and the incredible gift we were being given
standing here at the edge
where our unquestioned control of the world is reduced to the flick of a trunk
our small worries of arrangements and agreements
are of nothing
in this wide wilderness of the Zambezi valley
we were told they had never been this close before
it felt as if they were learning us…
what did they think
as they smelt our cups?
tasted our shoes?
do they know we are the ones
who are playing havoc with their world
bringing our fuel exhausts and plastic and bottles
invading this wild place
slowly making it into our play ground
we stand at the edge of the wilderness
both the problem and the worshiper
awed by the generosity of its sharing
and the gentleness of these wild giants