Stung Into Life

When the call of adventure dawned on the wayfaring traveller He sat down at the rock face quite tearful weary and sweaty Thought about fate meaning and streamed in consciousness A poet with a license to kill time and serene wavering spirit Fond of nature and nurture he looked down a perilous cliff Life had been poisonous recently and in need of reflection Close to a meandering delta of final conclusive determination He moved forth inch by un-relentless inch in search of resolve Freedom seemed far away in the clouds with linings receding Valleys of hopelessness approached vision void and oblivion And yet he felt a tickle of excitement close to his wounded heart Redirected his mind to a creepy sensation touching his mind He recalled his yoga teacher’s advice not to hurt sentient beings Secured mountain pose and lotus position for focus and peace In awe he looked at the Skeleton Tarantula’s urticating bristles Stretched on his skin and ready to puncture his ultimate life line Smooth hairy and frightened the little creature pondered Whether to play dead or defend its masterful existence with One venomous bite as the lonely seeker of truth closed his eyes And calmly decided that wisdom required patience and kindness 06th January 2020