Above the mountain, still and high,
The predator waits, beneath the sky,
With eyes like lanterns, keen and bright,
Searching the undergrowth, cloaked in night.

The whispering leaves, a secrets' keep,
As shadows dance, the forest's deep,
Every rustle, a promise of prey,
In silence it watches, poised to sway.

The thrill of the hunt, a call of fate,
With patience, it lingers, it will not wait,
Each heartbeat a rhythm in nature’s song,
In the wild world where it truly belongs.

The sun dips low, painting skies of gold,
The ancient tale of survival unfolds,
Above the mountain, in twilight's embrace,
The predator prowls, with grace and with pace.

Tomaž Jevšenak