Written piece
Cry of the Hornbill
NANDITA RAY
Malaysia
About this piece
We share a planet where Mother Nature has provided the tools for survival of all species. The jungles and oceans are home to treasures, many yet to be discovered. Alas,these veritable riches are being usurped with disregard for the future of our only home.
Awareness is crucial.
Atop the canopy of lush ficus,
the pair of helmeted hornbills perch
Comical and elegance merge
Dignified yet clumsy, on the verge.
Their casques glisten,
Red ivory patina
preened to a gloss
in the blazing tropical sun.
Majestically they stretch their wings,
they fly
Rush of wind beneath lifting them high
Orbs of yellow framed by long lashes
Seek out fruits for nourishment,
and crevices to nest in.
Mates for life, epitome of fidelity
Venerated as God of War and
deliverer of souls to the afterlife,
by inhabitants who share their forests.
In a sturdy trunk scarred by woodpeckers,
Laid bare by fungus
They find the ideal home.
Into the bowel of the tree, she enters
And with ease, with time
With soil, with waste, with detritus
The entrance is almost sealed.
Patiently she awaits her progeny.
He plies her with bills full of figs.
Through a slit in the roost
Protecting his brood,
Staving away prey
And the cruel hand of fate.
In the distance, branches topple,
foliage disappears, patches laid bare.
The staccato of machinery jar
The buzz of saws vibrate from afar
Plumes rise to sully the clear blue sky
Swinging branch to branch, orangutans scurry
Screeching in fear, limbs and tails fly in a flurry.
He swoops down, wings thrumming the wind
Anguished hoots rising to a cackling crescendo
As the trunk with the seal topples down, slow.
A piercing shot slices through the air
Black and white feathers plunge down to earth
Crashing through the leaves, down to the dirt.
A blinding glint cuts through with swift
What was once the magnificent beak.
Somewhere, someone soon will
Be caressing a carving of a soul laid still.