and his back receives the lashes of the vexed rains.
He dances to a melodious silence in pitiful mirth,
for his heart knows not the world's anguish and pains.
He grazes on the fields of weeds and moss,
and preys on an absent enemy like a wolf does.
His eyes accommodate no tears, for they know no loss,
and on the bark of the Simarouba, he gleefully gnaws.
He journeys under the unsmiling silhouette of night,
for his poor mind is oblivious to caution.
Unlike his brothers, he has no ambition in his sight,
for he is satisfied with his meager portion.
He stands tall on the mountain and leaps, soaring into the air,
falling ever so graciously, for his mind is no place for fear.
Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017
