Leaves of language

I am an ant;
people move like clouds above me;
their order is bigger, not greater.

For us there is no difference between
them and the whims of nature
which they do not command.
Occasionally here or in distant places
they may extend malign or benign influence
over us; from the pride of strength
which amongst them reigns,
they assume the powers of life and death.

Those who argue people
are to be adored
do so out of fear – they hold no
love for their own teeming symbiotes.

I do not think people have yet ordered genocides
amongst us as did the powers
in their own testaments,
or that we have listened; I am not sure.

In hours and minutes past some amongst us
may have understood their voices,
but now all who claim this knowledge are mad
or of vain elites that forget we are together ants.
They pause and shriek for a moment,
preaching heaven and practising hell,
as the rest of us rush by.

I seek salvation in the barely discernible
patterns of things, in the gentle touches
of my companions,
the absorption of milking nectar,
in shared excitement and frenzies of finding.

No matter there are many like me;
I am complete.

11.5.04