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Poem

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…

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