The Wanderer - For My Granddaughter Meritxell Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

When hungry I pick nuts
and berries: whatever nature yields.
I do not sleep in huts
but in green fields.

I’m woken by the light,
with nature’s artwork hung on all
my walls, and the delight
of birdsong cascading like a waterfall.

Even when gates keep me out,
imagination like a sunbird soars over fences,
settles on a flower, sucks it out
in a fierce delirium of all the senses.

And in the midday’s feral glare
I seek a wide tree’s shade and stretch out there
to dream where butterflies like poems are everywhere.