Sugar ants crawling.
A gust,
they take flight,
and I feel a tickle on my back.
More grass.
I'm sitting on a desert plain.
The ants return as if nothing has changed.
Life finds a way.
I wrote this poem while sitting on a concrete walkway in the back yard. It was a nice day and I just transcribed what I observed. I then used those observations to inform some apparent insight about life.
Life does find a way.
Sometimes, it's hard to remember that, and it's hard to remember the bigger picture.
In many ways, we may be considered like ants - and along that same thought, it sometimes helps me to think of ants as people. Just like the ant has his or her concerns and worries to attend to, various acts of import that must be upheld and adhered to, so do we individuals, as humans. And as the ant's worries and concerns are largely insignificant to me, on the order of barely existing at all, so too are my worries and concerns largely and only a product of my own thinking. The drama is often only in our heads. This awareness of the relativity of the drama often offers me comfort and strength. Life is a balance that is never lost, and that is what this poem attempts to express.
**** No ants were harmed in the making of this post. ****
The drama is often only in our heads...
Life is a balance that is never lost...
Your words make me sit up straighter in my chair.
Probably better than a piece of grass! :D That last line you mentioned has a very lyrical quality to it that I hadn't noticed until you reiterated it. Maybe a good starting place for another poem!