Survive The Jungle

Survive the Jungle

This jungle is made of steel and stone.
I follow the herd each day.
We weave and scamper around each other.
Dipping and diving through tunnels and streets in a great swathe of humanity.
In an hour this place will be empty, but now, at this time, we squeeze and push and cram our way to work.

There are predators here, hidden in the towers of brick and glass.
The junior executive who wants your job, the manager looking to blame his mistakes on another,
all to ingratiate himself with the higher predators.
There are so many, hidden among the sheep and the wolves as we wind ourselves through the day.

But there is beauty here too.
In the still places, the towers rise and the statues look to the sky.
Each of us has a secret space, a quiet place where the jungle is still and the city echoes just for us.
We each have our moment away from the herd,
Then it is back to the desk or the warehouse, the grass plains and the water holes.
We chew the cud and graze as we go about our day, ever watchful for predators.

Eventually the day is over and the herds return home.
Once more we cluster, but slower this time.
The cattle trucks arrive again and again and we ache to squeeze in.
My mind has little left, but instinct pushes me ever on again and again.

Then we are home, and I find you there.
We have both ranged far but always come together here.
You wrap your arms around me and I draw you close.
We find another stillness here together,
and this is how I know I will survive the jungle.