Lion Hunting

Far away from the plains
I hear the stealthy footsteps
of an unborn Masai searching for a mother.

I hear his spear
pierce the evening and
split open her feline womb.

I hear the painful growls
of a lioness in spasms of childbirth
under the watchful eyes of a golden sun.

Then I hear the ecstatic first cries
of newborn manhood
of mankind born again.

As the sun sets;
here, across an ocean,
I am still waiting for a mother.