Animals In Mourning Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Crows mourn the dead in their own special way,
Gathered and croaking, where the body lies
Keening like banshees, their grief to allay
Making the trees around, loud with their cries.

Magpies approach the corpse, and as they pass,
Gently they peck it, like a parting kiss,
And lay beside the fallen bird fresh grass,
As if to show its presence they will miss;

As Ghana's coffin dancers jig and flap
So do the birds, who bitterly complain
That one who loved to fly, is fallen, stilled
Gone from her social sphere, her woodland reign.

Beneath the oak tree branches, rowan's shade,
A feather flutters, stirred by a small wind
Sky burial, it is a feast outlayed
The end for all things feathered, furred, and finned

Elephants grieve when a herd mother dies,
They gently touch her body, showing care:
Her calf screams hurt beneath the jungle skies,
This is their mode of mourning, all must share.

Then they fall silent, circle like a shield,
Cover with dirt and leaves her stiff remains;
They stand for days, and will not stray afield
Give death its dues, absorb its inner pains

And where joy was bestowed by an elm tree
I sometimes pass the gap, and feel a chill
That space where shade and rustling greenery
Cut down, has left a gap nothing can fill

All things, interconnected, form a mesh
Of life bearing a spark of sacred fire
Sap, blood and pith, bone, branch and stem, frail flesh
Are notes in Nature's song, her living lyre.