It looked to all and sundry
like a piece of tree bark
with texture and colour
its distinctive trademark.
In quiet mode it lay there
listening with good ear
for those who cringe and hide
too frightened to appear.
Then, it moved upward
like a fearless steeple jack
climbing to such heights
that could make nerves crack.
Moving with a confidence
that belies its tiny frame
it flew from tree to tree
towards it succulent game.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem