Hunter
by Ted L Glines
Once upon a time we hunted the wild
the wind in our hearts with the hope of a child,
roaming the plains and forests so vast
with only our gods to make us aghast,
we fished the lakes and roamed by the sea,
hunters with honor - living free.
Now - we hunters - build our own cages
small cages - tall cages - caging our rages,
movement restricted - freedom constricted
bound and gagged - release interdicted,
and we paint the inside of our walls
with sunsets and meadows - pools and falls,
oh, how good it looks - like the real thing,
never feeling the wind - a bird on the wing,
we whine and complain about crime and hate
things done by hunters sharing our fate,
for cages breed hunger and greed, you hear,
where kindness is weakness destroyed by fear.
Oh, Heavenly One, You will not help,
“the caged hunter - hunts himself.”*
*This almost-quote from: “People of the Silence, ” by Kathleen O'Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem