There is a place I know where
I am humbled--
And it was there, by the light
of day, I sat on white steps,
conscious of my luck, in
denial of my faults,
yet thinking of nothing
in particular,
when they came--
I stared, fascinated,
as one colony of ants
lifted together,
paraded the stale, lifeless
body of a flattened gecko
up all the steps upon which I sat--
Hundreds of them,
some black, some red,
with the most
determined movements,
their impossible task
at hand, inch by inch
becoming possible--
In that moment, I loved
them all: the ants and the gecko,
the trees, the fruit bats, the steps,
my faults--
There is a place where I know
what it's like to conquer
the beast who feeds on my blood,
and how gently the dead
can be handled.
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