icon caret-left icon caret-right instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads question-circle facebook circle twitter circle linkedin circle instagram circle goodreads circle pinterest circle

Relentless Pursuit

Rushing rivers rose   

marooning us on marshy isles.

The dry land of our birth   

receded from view.  

 

Gone were the days

of hunting easy prey:

zebra, giraffe, impala

at dawn, dusk, dark.     

 

We turned to face    

the swiftly sweeping horns

and punishing pounding hoofs  

of Cape buffalo. 

 

Hunger drove us

over the grassy plains,

through entangled vegetation,

into deep rivers.  

 

We tracked the herd

in one hundred twenty

degrees of roaring-fire

midday sun. 

 

Dropped on the plains  

from starvation, exhaustion,

injuries, infected wounds.   

Drowned in rivers.   

 

Clawed our way back   

from the edge of extinction.  

Learned the buffalo ways.  

Pressed forward.  

 

We anticipate   

their favored watering sites.

Wait for their arrival.  

Attack our prey.   

 

We, lionesses of North Africa,

hunters of the Vora Pride,        

grow bolder, bigger, and better

than any lion on dry land.        

 

Go where no lion has ever gone.

Do what has never been done.          

Advance the genetic imprint.       

Raise the bar for those who follow.