as though they grew
out of the earth
like some forest species of plant
Reflected in his eye
the blue of the sky
turns bluer
From the ocean
the tender-hearted friend
fills his heart
with boundless tenderness
for all
Tired with the world
he seeks haven in the forest
more civilized than the world
of cultured humans
This animal loving hunter
hunts to save the forest
and its denizens
As the talk turns serious
his forefinger describes
an unending whorl
on his temple
as if tightening the invisible
screws of his brain
To indicate money
he rubs the tip
of his forefinger
against his thumb
and says-money!
Money and mind-
that is Cees Maurick
money calls for mind
but mind calls for something
that only Cees Maurick knows
His feet
untired like wheels
ever on the move
he often returns
to the forest
to fill his eye and time
From the walls of his
river-front home
heads of deer look
at the goings on with
wondering, innocent eyes
on the tables sit birds
turning wood into
living branches
The day spent
unraveling the intricacies
of commerce
the evening finds him
amidst his animals-caressing
a forehead
the body
the fur
as though their lifeless
bodies hold the joy of touch
For children the hand
of an angel
for friends the hand
of a friend
for dear ones
the touch of living love
the worst enemy
of the violent
Countering worry with laughter
he dissolves his laughter
in wine sharing his energy
and friendship with
friends and family
he is the liquid
that lubricates the machinery
of his business
His home a strange aviary
of forest and water bird
models and masks
He loves his forest animals
like friends
and like his home
loves the forest
I often wonder-
is the forest his home
and animals his friends?
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