The Solitary Peacock...

...loves himself more than he loves you,
yes, he needs you for the gasp,
the admiration of his armour,
dazzling colours aplenty,
and the grace of the moment,
when your eyes cling to his beauty.

Carefully, he taps his dainty feet,
swirling around, letting you believe,
you are part of this show,
the father of this spectacular vision,
then it all its glory of being,
it becomes larger than itself,
larger than you; shinning and shaking
its grand cover, watching you slyly,
as you watch it, and you believe that
you witnessed something so magnificent...

...so does the pea hen,
believes that he calls out to her,
dancing for her approval, her lust,
and her heart of sand flies to him,
sitting on his bead blue grass green eyes

Others believe that he is ecstatic
for the dark clouds, the smell of
torrid wet earth, joyous in nature,
caller of waters, bearer of seasons.

They don't know he dances
because he's solitary,
because he loves his sinewy body,
the body that gives him company,
when he's too bored to flash his fan,
the only one he loves, it is not
a dance of sorrow or nostalgia,
it is a dance of belonging,
breaking all desire of social seeking,
delving into acceptance of the self.

He doesn't need you, or anyone,
except the folds of every inch of
his thought and time, that remind him
that being solitary is as natural as
the pole star, as natural as being alive.