I wasn’t meant to be here—
and yet I stood, quiet,
as ancient power moved through the dust.
Majestic creatures of Africa,
wild and eternal,
writing their story in silence.
But silence is not safety.
The great herds grow smaller.
Ivory still bleeds into black markets,
and a species built by memory,
by matriarchs and migrations,
stands at the edge of disappearance.
To witness them is to carry their story—
not just in awe, but in action.
_____
ART THAT HONORS THE WILD
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