Sometimes survival is a game of stillness,
a quiet negotiation with something larger, fiercer,
its shadow stretching across brittle grass,
beak sharp as unspoken threats,
the clack of feet like thunder on your ribs.
Nobody tells you how to make yourself
small enough to be ignored,
how to fold into silence,
curl your breath into a prayer.
The earth takes you, cradle-flat,
as claws scrape the sky above.
The ostrich doesn’t know your heartbeat
is a white flag waving surrender.
It only knows forward and fury,
misplaces its violence when you refuse
to stand and meet it head-on.
It's strange to tame danger by waiting.
Stranger still to feel the weight of freedom
when it walks away, unknowingly defeated.
Not every fight needs fists or flight.
There is power, too, in playing dead.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: September 12th, 2026 09:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments1
Now if this is not a metaphor for facing fear I don't know what is. A good write my friend.
😂 Thank you Soren. Yeah playing dead when an ostrich is chasing you with 4 inch talons is good metaphor for facing your fears
Most welcome sometimes it is a fine line between wisdom and valor. Always a pleasure
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