Strolling by the pond she's greeted
with quaint sound and stare;
a member she soon felt in return
to some crumbs to share.
Can fish sing lullaby, too?
Oh, how I wish they do,
and be babysitters too,
for baby and fish in duo.
This faithful errant though over eager,
his job done just too well;
to earn admiration from his master
to say, all's well at the end.
Hug a bunny when the sky's gray,
or at the end of a hard day;
Talk to her, she can understand
more than those in a band.
Greeting a boar in its pen,
a wall away to the open:
freedom and duty,
fate and destiny.
A wild pigeon submits to friendship
but briefly in a cage;
freedom she seeks by an ancient gene
that will never age.
An errand walks by a carabao herd
on lazy stream and hour;
a bread she carries for her grandmother;
fairy tale is true after all.
Where skill above risk builds confidence,
takes the two to places they go;
What kinship master and pet do make,
heads turning to admire and to awe.
Animae, triumph of art and technology,
birth of many a queer specie(s);
biodiversity of imagination and fantasy,
enigma of truth and reality.
King Kong, false image of the kind,
shy and the sublime animal,
misunderstood by evolution
for not being rational.
A sled on to the moon,
airplane and ship aboard;
a travelogue for kids
to conquer the world.
Resurrection from Armageddon
from poison and waste it hid,
this ba-ug frog a prodigal son
of man's folly and greed.
A new world bigger than their shell they greet,
yet shrink and hide in it,
not when alone and happy, or abandoned
but when failed to compete.
A living factory works under our feet,
its product glistens in the rising sun:
detritus for the garden and farm.
Who really has the Green Thumb?