ant quietly sits
under my right foots big toe
I gently release
ant climbs down dog bowl
was she getting herself drink
dogs do not notice
quiet meadow ant
heading toward peony bushes
partying with friends
miniscule ant
purposeful frenzied movements
i ponder her goal
You look at the ant,
He doesn't carry as much
Weight as he can do.
Ant share load to ease
Never tired of sharing work
They're busy body.
Seldom they sleep
Day and night they are working
Supply service chain.
They're never out lack
They have zealous hands and feet
Never lazy thing.
Believe in numbers
That is their core strength
United they stand.
Are we cheap human?
We're more sensitive than ants,
We should learned from them.
every blade of grass has a memory
each yellow dandelion has her own song to sing
I marvel at the miracle of the red clover with her circular leaves
purposeful ant marches past my musings, giving me a withering look
ant
anti
antifreeze
antiestablishment
aunty Em
Ant hill
ants on a log
ant
Does God mourn
for every ant
that was crushed
before it was able to carry its own weight?
Caviar is fish eggs and I think so blobbish and ugly
Squishy and squirmy looking; they do not tempt me
Mexican caviar is supposedly ant eggs, definitely not free
How they capture ant eggs, I really do not fathom or see.
i wonder- when the people you’ve seen once upon a distant memory ask how i am, what do you say?
do you say we don’t talk?
do you say the truth?
do you admit to your sins like a devil in the church-
do you feel a charcoal burn on your soul when you see soul in the wind?
the charred burn on my soul remains forever.
a battle scar of your anger- our great war.
i like to think we’re biblical,
like my soul was the great garden you terminated with your unholiness,
bugs crawling our of my beautiful garden of a soul- with the chemical burns of a thousand souls from your extermination.
He work day and night
Labor food through its jawbones
Share love for his queen.
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.
newness calms new day
season dawns a little dot
moves cross the pavement
don't move or step down
this dot a spring baby ant
from concrete to grass
4/11/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025
Going up and down
Bringing food to the hungry
Doing day and night.
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