Darkness, warm and heavy,
Humid air, tinged with sweetness,
Scurrying creatures hide from watchful eyes.
Water droplets, dripping. Dripping.
Like a leaking bath tap.
A wolf, or a spaniel, howls.
Squawking birds answer its’ call
Echoing through the thickness of the bush
A shadow flaps overhead,
Caught in the orange of my torch, for a split second.
A tiger prowls nearby
Hunting a rodent, a midnight snack.
The light dims and flickers out.
Through the shadow of branches shines brilliant white light
A spotlight from the moon
Surrounded by the puncture wounds of starlight
Through the curtain of black and blue sky.
The morning will be dead, quiet.
But while I am perched on this log
The jungle is alive.
There is life in the breeze,
The tree’s whisper in hushed voices caught on the lull of the breeze.
The citrus scented flowers tickle my eyes and my nose
With their heavy perfume, sweet and thick like syrup,
It weighs on my limbs, singing me to sleep.
The tiger pounces,
Leaves fly in his wake
The mouse escapes.
The tiger skulks away.
An ant tickles my bare ankle
Crawling the wrong way
Its’ friends not far behind.
I brush it away and notice
A tiny moth fluttering
Seeking light, Seeking comfort