The ostrich kept her head, buried deep within the sand
Whilst out on the horizon, grew a blight upon the land
A storm was brewing steadily, a darkness in the air
The ostrich felt its presence, but she never looked up there
Her hole was nice and cosy, her world in there cocooned
She buried her unease with her head, deep down in the dunes
Time went by and the ostrich laid eggs, hatched them into chicks
The blight crept ever closer, so she showed them all her tricks
To keep them safe from the ills of the world, the answer was close at hand
All they need do is dig a deep hole, and bury their heads in the sand
The chicks listened to their mother, and squashed down their unease
Ignoring the creeping darkness, tainting the land with disease
Time went by and the darkness, crept almost close enough to touch
But the mother had taught her chicks so well, that none were worried much
Except for one, a plucky young chick, not afraid to speak her mind
She kept her head up more than most, she hated being blind
Her eyes stayed on the darkness, as she dared it ‘do your worst!’
Her fear was ever present, but her head in the sand was worse
When the blight had spread so close, that it found its way to the sand
Her brethren began to listen, the flock began to understand
To look away fed the darkness, allowed it to grow and spread
To save their land they would have to, open their eyes and see instead
Tentative at first, then determined, they raised their heads
Looked aghast upon the world, as they finally faced their dread
Their fear forged to fire, they stared the darkness down
Their collective gaze shone a light so fierce that the blight was quickly drowned
From that day on, no ostrich, has buried their head underground
Each chick has taught their young to be fierce, to hold themselves tall and proud
They remember what she taught them, that plucky young chick long ago
Now a grandmother bird, content in her age, watching her grand-chicks grow
Fear is ever present, but it can’t get in the way
To live a life fulfilled, it must be faced each day
The next generations look into the darkness, however uncomfortably
For they know that truly seeing, is the only way to be free
Up until I wrote this poem I thought ostriches really did bury their heads in the sand, but a quick internet search revealed this is a commonly held myth, though they will flatten themselves to the ground if they feel threatened.
Funny how we can be so certain of things that aren’t true.
True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.
Socrates
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It’s awesome! I love it!
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Thanks John 🙏 😊
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Love this poem Rae. X
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Thanks lovely 😊 xx
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