The March of the Penguins

The little penguins march along the ice Battling against them The might of the long winter’s crisis The small ones under their mother’s bellies they crawl Into a world of cold, their eyes opened Marching weeks and months Just to find Some miracle rough food The mothers and children stay The fathers leave Walking and marching for miles And in between The Crisis changes into the worse Where the large bird descends Toward the small penguins The ones who have mothers Run to them While other shield themselves By squeezing tightly together As the merciless bird strikes Some mange to run While finally one is caught In the ugly beast’s claws And eventually gets eaten cruelly… And when the dads come Some find their sons While others Just endure another crisis similar And for some The dad recognizes his son By his or her song And beautifully they unite again The father, mother, son Stand Together, proud and remarking How beautiful their son is And patiently the season changes Summer comes, the ice melts In the water they splash and swim Day by day All of the small penguins Grow up Their parents leaving them to a path of their own They march again How significant and enduring I can’t describe how A penguin really suffers…