Ant on a Log
Once there was a log
Floating downstream
On a swift-flowing river
Towards a sawmill.
And, on that log,
Perched on a loose patch of bark,
Behind a broken limb,
There was an ant.
The ant didn’t know about the sawmill.
He did not hear the rushing water.
He couldn’t tell the size of the log
Or perceive the danger he was in.
On that piece of bark, the ant was king,
Ruler of all that he could see.
So, he began to issue orders to the log,
“Go left – now turn right!”
Then, that log entered the sawmill
And was gone in a pile of boards and dust.
That ant was gone then too.
All that remained was the river.
We all too often think
“I’m the center of my world”.
We should remember that ant.
Look out farther than your patch of bark.
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