The Wild Geese

By Kayin Borang

A flock of wild geese from a distant swamp

With their feathered arms spread skyward 

Comes soaring at the green buzzed grass

And with its webbed feet settles on my yard.

My home was a residence to the wild things 

Where a lake stowed and lively trees stood 

All the animals lived over the green thickness 

But modernity drained the earth and it's root.

Perhaps, these wild geese are ancient 

And is tracing the historical paths of nature 

Where foliages rife in the greenest of hue

And it searches for the bones of a false future.

By Kayin Borang