The Wise Wingless Owl

POETRY FORMAT, 4 Jul 2022

Dr Usha Roopnarain – TRANSCEND Media Service

He sat perched so everyone could see.
Unmoving, but called king of the night.
Only God could create that amazing yellow eyesight.
Without a wing, he silently stares.
Unable to fly.
With all his wisdom,
He is sullen and  solemn.
Cos his wing has fallen…in a dark way.

He watches the dull clouds go by.
No wing, his flesh  must want to  tremble.
His mind and soul may want to crumble.

Perhaps he is hiding his tears!
Surely, he has nightmares and despairs.
Unable to fly…out in the perfumed sky
He must be aching to fly.
All I feel is distress
And rub my eye.
Why can’t I fly?
What counsel can I give you?
A hunter’s heart is like thunder.
In his eyes, you are just plunder.
To me
You are God’s wonder
Wise, wingless, robbed of flight.
It’s a horrible sight.


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Dr Usha Roopnarain – Former parliamentarian in the National Assembly of South Africa, social activist and passionate about human rights and gender equality.


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This article originally appeared on Transcend Media Service (TMS) on 4 Jul 2022.

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