Spotted Wind

The chasing cheetah skimmed the land, Like pebbles cross the stream, The sight of him was mighty grand, For he looked quite supreme... With spotted fur that blurred from view While rising dust flew back, The cheetah knew what he must do! Attack, attack, attack... Despite the spectacle I saw, That predator must live, A solemn fact not to ignore, No mercy left to give... When hunger grows, what choice remains? Lay down, submit and die? Or choose to hunt across the plains, No more content to sigh? To seize the day... or die at night? Live long enough to mate? Face life head-on, with all his might, Or feebly face his fate? He made his choice, survival first, All other lives come last... How come so focussed, so immersed? His future, not his past... Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2014. The poem is based on the magnificent wildlife painting by Stephen Gayford nb Google search: gayfordgallery Find more wildlife poems using Google search for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.