10/12/2023
• Picathartes •
Deep in the forest, where shadows play,
A boot disturbs the leaf litter, the world at bay.
Weight shifting, air thick with anticipation,
Eyes transfixed, patient through perspiration.
In the gathering gloom, the evening forest din,
A flutter of wings whisper on the wind.
Through the labyrinth of vines and tangled trees,
Silently he appears, with a gentle ease.
There he sits, guardian of the rock,
White-necked, bare head enigmatically cocked.
In the symphony of nature, a moment composed,
Picathartes, the storyteller, with shadows enclosed.
Through a keyhole of foliage, lens raised high,
A glimpse into his world – click – frozen in time.