Portraits of Animal Sentience
How can creative expressions of other animals’ sentience and our relationships/commonalities with them help promote respect, understanding, and thus coexistence? In her spare time our CEO and co-founder, Katherine Baxter, writes short meditations and reflections seeking to poetically represent the sentience of other animals, from within the confines of our limited human vantage point. We hope you will enjoy this series, and welcome you to share your own creative writings/reflections on animal sentience with us.
A Prayer for Living Things
Standing in a circle
Heads bowed, eyes closed
A man wearing white
Says a prayer
In a language I can’t understand
He speaks, and I feel…
The gentle breeze
Washing over me
I breathe in
The scent of Jasmine
From a nearby tree
I look down
A single ant
Moving slowly
Across the stone floor
I look up
A pair of monarch butterflies
Floating effortlessly
Through the sky
I reach out
And touch the gentle rain
Cleansing my dusty hands
I listen
To the steady vibration
Of each droplet
On the tin roof
I smell
The warmth of the earth
Wet with relief
The man’s prayer draws to an end
I raise my head
And join them
As we all say, “Amen.”
Butterfly
When a butterfly crosses your path
You should be sure to follow her
Free and deliberate, she floats effortlessly
Adding beauty, lightness, and grace
Creating potential wherever she lands
She knows where she’s going
And what’s guiding her forward
Into each delicate moment
Of her fleeting existence
Though she may seem naïve
She has experienced the darkness
And in that darkness found transformation
Not able to know at the time
That on the other side of this long dark
Would be her time to fly
She emerges stronger, brighter, entirely free
With no anger or resentment
For the darkness she had to pass through
In order to be.
Cheetah
The color of eyes hidden in grass
Of a life taken too soon
By a figure dressed in green
Under the light of a full moon
A mother of six
Just trying to survive
The onslaught of man and beast
Who viewed her as their prize
What will this world be like
When she is no longer here
Will it notice the grace and beauty
This greed has foregone
Will it mourn the eyes
That can no longer be seen
The color of honey
Amidst the savannah’s golds and greens
Will it even and stop and pause
To notice the creature who’s passed
From existence to extinction
A being now only of the past.
Squirrel
The red squirrel sits in the mighty pine
His bushy tail wrapped around dark green needles
Crouched forward, holding something previous to his chest
He hears the sound of the wind chime floating through the air, as I do
He feels the breeze gently swaying the trees, as I do
He sees the grasshopper gliding atop the wildflowers, as I do
He seeks refuge in his small wooden home, as I do
He finds company and warmth in the one with whom he shares that home, as I do
He stores food for the long Winter, as I do
He briefly looks me in the eye before darting back up his tree
As if to say, we’ve got a lot in common, you and me.
Raven
The raven perches atop the wooden telephone pole
Black as night, looking out over the green valley and the mighty blue mountain
Next to her companion, by whose side, she shall remain, til death due them part
Her amber eyes glowing like embers
Embers she has surely seen from above
As she soars over dwindling and dying forest longing to be reborn
The raven watches; the raven waits
A dark guardian, a reminder of things lost
Or perhaps yet to be found
The raven was here long before us
And she shall remain long after we’re gone
Unperturbed by our constant noise
Hearing a silence long since disappeared
In the stillness of the trees and the whispers of the breeze.
Hummingbird
The hummingbird greets me every morning
Suspended effortlessly in midair
His emerald throat glowing in the bright new day light
Somehow this fleeting encounter
This simple recognition
From a fellow being
Quiets my worried heart
The rapid beating of his
Making me aware of the steadiness of mine
His small boldness
Making my lack of courage
Seem proportionately absurd
“There is strength in fragility
And confidence in speed”
He whispers to me
The hummingbird understands
That motion is key
Just keep moving
Darting, diving, chasing, gliding
As the seasons change
And the clouds roll
If you can ride the wind
You can find balance amidst it all.
Lynx
The lynx sits quietly in the mountain thicket
Her pointed ears stretched upright
As she listens to the coyotes in the ravine below
Yowling at the full moon above
Looking out over the movements of the night
She doesn't make a sound and can hardly be seen
Takes a few invisible steps into the darkness
Then suddenly disappears
A beautiful moonlit ghost
Living on the hillside behind my house
A silent reminder of the remarkable life
Vanishing slowly
Right before our eyes.
Elephant
People say that when you look into the eye of an elephant
They can see your soul
An eye isn’t an eye because you see it;
An eye is an eye because it sees you
What do we see, as we look reciprocally?
Can we grasp the profundity of what her eyes have seen?
Her wisdom, her memory, her hardship, her love
Her suffering, her joy, her empathy, her mourn
Her quiet strength and determination
Her intuitive map of space and time
Can I grasp all the ways she is beyond my abilities to perceive
But also, somehow, similar to me?
How lucky we are to share this earth
With such a being.
Weaver
Strand by strand
Piece by piece
With a steady hand
The weaver keeps his peace
With each single act
A world unfolds
With each blade of grass
A story is told
He hums and laughs
And whistles and sings
As he welcomes each day
And all it brings
But to what end
Does the weaver build his nest?
To the dream of a home
And having it filled.
Luke, the Dog (by Mary Oliver)
I had a dog who loved flowers
Briskly she went, through the fields
Yet paused for the honeysuckle
Or the rose
Her dark head, and her wet nose
Touching the face
Of every one
With its petals of silk
With its fragrance rising
Into the air, where the bees
Their bodies heavy with pollen
Hovered— and easily she adored
Every blossom
Not in the serious, careful way
That we choose
This blossom or that blossom—
The way we praise or don’t praise—
The way we love or don’t love—
But the way we long to be—
That happy in the heaven of earth—
That wild, that loving.
Invitation (by Mary Oliver)
Oh do you have time
To linger, for just a little while
Out of your busy
And very important day
For the goldfinches
That have gathered
In a field of thistles
For a musical battle
To see who can sing
The highest note, or the lowest
Or the most expression of mirth
Or the most tender
Their strong, blunt beaks
Drink the air
As they strive, melodiously
Not for your sake, or for mine
And not for the sake of winning
But for sheer delight and gratitude—
Believe us, they say,
It is a serious thing
Just to be alive
On this fresh morning
In this broken world
I beg of you
Do not walk by without pausing
To attend to this
Ridiculous performance
It could mean something
It could mean everything
It could be what Rilke meant
When he wrote:
You must change your life.
Wild Geese (by Mary Oliver)
You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
Love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and i will tell you mine
Meanwhile the world goes on
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of rain
Are moving across the landscapes
Over the prairies and the deep trees
The mountains and the rivers
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air
Are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination
Calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
Over and over announcing your place
In the family of things.
Elk
The elk greets the morning light
Of a chill Autumn day
With a deep sound of a high pitch
A bugle reverberating across the hillside
Letting it be known to all
He is ready to seize this day
Standing proudly
Ready to take his chance at the eternal
It’s his turn to spread whatever secrets
Are contained within him
And he will not rest
Until his task is complete
Pulled by forces
Within and beyond him
To do what’s necessary
To remain in this world
Even after his body has been returned
To the impermanence of the earth
Compost for futures
We can’t yet imagine.
Ants
Scurrying around my feet
Searching for something sweet
Following invisible trails
Of scent and vibration
We will never see
Each leg and antennae
So adept at feeling
Somehow they know without seeing
They listen without hearing
They communicate without speaking
Following each other
Building robust communities
World’s of infinite complexity
All right beneath our feet.
Chameleon
Bright green and yellow
In contrast to the brick red earth
I come around a corner
And he is revealed
Moving steadily across
This stark and precarious path
Each motion so deliberate
Lifting one leg
Taking only a single step
Before swiveling his eye 360 degrees
Ensuring it’s ok, to take the next
He is moving through a hurried world
In slow motion
Cautiously, intentionally, vigilantly
At times, invisibly
Always getting where he’s meant to be
No matter how long it takes
Only letting himself be seen
When he knows it’s safe
I kneel down and thank him
For giving me this rare glimpse
Of how he moves down his path
As I proceed down mine
A little more slowly.