When I try to start a poem with,
“If I could only be an elephant,”
it ends with too much sadness
to begin.
Fierce love disrupted
through culling’s lethal game.
Circus crowds
with ooooos and ahhhhhs,
pay for elephant chains.
It’s over before it begins.
Humanity holds the trump card
yearning for cash and coins.
They win.
Ladies and Gentlemen!
In the center ring!
Brenda Warren 2014
Adventures in Poetry and Writing
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undercaws 
Brenda, followed your bread crumbs back to their beginnings. We peel back our awareness in layers as thin as onion skin. Today, I found a certain synchronicity in your process, that closely resembles my own. Thank you for the confirmation. Who knows, one day we may find the similarities between hawks and elephants.
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2014/04/23/poet-hawk-ii/
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Well written and incredibly sad poem, Brenda.
Pamela ox
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xo
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I feel the sadness, too. Glad you wtote the poem, Brenda.
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Thanks Sabra, but I still didn’t write the piece that started with “If I could only be an elephant….” I’d trample humanity. Here’s my wish for elephants culled: https://undercaws.com/2011/07/05/seven-saved/ It’s an older poem that I’ve reworked a few times.
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Exploitation of animals or people is too widespread in this world, not just elephants.
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I concur, Viv. We use each other for money and “entertainment.” Heavy stuff is revealed through human intention.
Entertainment and wealth carry great value.
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