|| cees maurick ||

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feet firmly planted on ground

as though they grew

out of the earth

like some forest species

reflected in his eye

the blue of the sky turns bluer

from the ocean the tender-hearted friend

fills his heart

boundless in his affection

Tired with the world

he seeks haven in the forest

more civilized than the world

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

From the walls of his

river-front home

heads of deer turn

their innocent eyes

wondering at the goings-on

birds perching

turning tables into living branches

Following a day spent

unraveling the intricacies of commerce

the evening finds him

among his animals

stroking their bodies, their fur

nudging their foreheads

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 amusement

he dissolves his laughter

sharing his energy

in friendship with friends and family

he is the wine

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

though commerce be his blood

is the forest his home

are animals his friends

is life his real love