What stroke of pen or smear of paint

can match the greatness of a simple flower?

What knowledge of this world, one day one night?

can match a cloud or wave upon an ocean?

What emotion greater than the sacrifice of love

or more vile than the hates which emanate from men?

With all our knowledge can we build an ant or mend

a heart, broken by the frailty of a promise?

We live our tiny lives in thoughtless moves,

unable to see the folly of our stupidity.

How crass our thoughts how cruel our actions,

responding to the slightest change of mood.

We do not control our destiny, we just exist.

We must rise above ourselves to be more

worthy of the gifts that we were given?

 

 

David Garlick, Sidney, May, 2009

 

With all our knowledge we might build an ant  (line 7)