From the Heart of the Rainforest

Angelina Bong

The Rainforest Calls 

Bats dance in dragon moves  
across the skies leaving Deer Cave deep  
in the rainforest hunting in packs  
of millions. I was one of the hornbills  
who left for the land of the tigers strapped  
with the White Rajah’s tongue searching 
to fill more than my belly just like  
my Naga Merah ancestors migrating  
to where seeds beads and feathers  
call home. 
 
Nerves creaking crossing 
hanging plank bridges thirty-metres  
from the ground my heart stumbles 
through lianas imagines tigers 
scratching Belian trunks. Scars 
on the treasures of this soil screams  
from the hornbills’ babies 
reach numb ears. 
 
Torchlight keeps sanity 
in the rain fleeing the frogs and crickets’  
nightly jungle feasts my feet are land snails. 
The tigers loom close since ‘sixty-three 
some with preying teeth others with  
friendly paws. Hornbills flew nearby 
some blindfolded. 
 
Harimau is a family-friend to me but may be a foe 
to other Kenyalang siblings who felt caged  
for too long the Eighteen-Point-Perjanjian was buried 
instead of built. I almost nestled with them 
but the wind heading home caught my wings 
to where Puteri Santubong cries and laughs 
sleep is bittersweet for her.  
 
Tripping over towering Tapang tree 
I look up beyond the sky. My estranged roots  
entangled with creepers fungi and dandelions gifts 
from the Tiger who half-raised me my eyes 
become tired squinting into the canopy.  
 
November today shakes the ecosystem. Will  
there be an evolution?