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Small Life

There are killings, suffocation in gullet hell holes, decapitations by mandibles stalking in shadows, death pits at the bottom of slippery throated flowers and racked on a web, a struggling moth slowly turning into soup. My garden is a slaughter field littered with the leftovers from deadly feasts. And the victims….what of their inaudible cries, the screams broadcast on wavelengths beyond my ear. Do they plead for mercy, feel pain register in whatever rudimentary brain animates their brief lives. Help me ! Please help me ! does the moth cry, feeling the spiders fangs penetrate and pump poison into its trussed body. Or do I give such small life undue significance affording it compassion when it should be exempt. But where's the line ? Size ? Its propensity for domestication, its rank on an arbitrary scale ? The perfumed beauty of a single flower diverts the senses and disconnects attention to the suffering of small things. We are blissfully unaware. Does anyone hear them, does anyone care, or does life's little screams fall into an uncaring nothingness and if so, then what of our own.

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Daniel Turner

Date: 11/21/2023 12:02:00 PM

I get your point, Paul. I'll second Lin's remark. I will also add a line from a movie which I think is the mentality of it all. "If God had not meant them to be sheared, He would not have made them sheep" The strong over the weak.

Paul Willason
Date: 11/27/2023 4:01:00 AM

Many thanks Daniel for your comments...makes sense of course although how savage the game rules are. O well... Take care my friend, Paul

Lin Lane

Date: 11/18/2023 7:10:00 AM

There's significance to all life, Paul. I know you're aware or you would not have created the thoughts you've exposed in this poem. "Survival of the fittest" is the law of nature but that doesn't mean we don't cringe when a life of even the lowliest tiny creature becomes a meal of survival for another. Catching a lizard in my home and releasing it is a compassionate thing to do, but I'd draw the line at a roach. Thank goodness I don't have them!

Paul Willason
Date: 11/27/2023 3:55:00 AM

Like you, roaches would have a hard time convincing me of their worthiness. As a self aware species, suffering is always a troubling subject when married to evolutionary survival...however the ability to feel and practice compassion is a unique part of our humanity I guess. Thanks Lin for your thoughtful comments. Paul

Sara Etgen-Baker

Date: 11/18/2023 4:37:00 AM

Wow, Paul. Your poem spoke to me. Recently a developer cut down trees and foliage in a nearby swath of land. I felt the pain and the agony you describe in your poem...the raping of nature with such blatant disregards. You're right, if nature in all its grandeur can be so easily disposed of without any regard, what they of us humans. A sad state of affairs. Your poem's imagery included such truth and wisdom. Have to fav this one! Have a pleasant day, Sara

Paul Willason
Date: 11/27/2023 3:47:00 AM

So kind to share your thoughts Sara and to expand on the theme. Pleased the poem provided an opportunity for reflection...honored that it did. Many thanks, Paul

Di11y Da11y

Date: 11/18/2023 4:26:00 AM

I watched a wasp in a spiders web in the summer go from struggle to stillness whilst contemplating whether I should have acted or whether it was already too late so allowing the meal to remain was the most sensible thing. I checked back days later to see what was left behind. Clearly something I couldn't do if this was on a larger scale or deemed not 'natures way'. Conditioning can certainly allow us watch on without questioning. My own little screams I'm conditioned to mostly hide. Great poem

Paul Willason
Date: 11/27/2023 3:41:00 AM

Thanks DD. Observations of nature seem to trigger questions particularly in regards to suffering. Either put in the too hard basket, brushed off or troubling. Take dare, Paul