At first
The words
Were ants
Easy to dismiss
As they marched across the surface of my mind
Dogma in every step
I tried to cross over them
Difficult
When they loop beneath eyelids
The onset of shingles
Vaguely itching
But not yet full blown hives
The discomfort grew
Which is when I realised
What I had been ignoring
Was the water all along
It seeps
Creeps
Into dry creek beds
Following paths
Carving anew
Unpredictable
But only to a certain degree
It washes whole platoons of ants
And they drown
Kicking and struggling
Dead
From a lack of air
If you’re not Jesus
You have to learn to swim
Ants know that
Which is why they run
At the first droplet
You say you don’t want to get wet
Yet there you stand
Looking at the sky
Like you have never seen it rain before
Here it is again
That advice
Clearly now
And only sensible as sensible can
Learn to swim
Faith floats
Hope hovers
And no one has enough of either anymore
So we must learn to swim
Before we leave the shore
[…] Swimming lessons […]
Awesomely cool to say the least. Your words offer so much — it’s something else. Verse is always at another level and so pleasing to mind & soul. Perhaps as in chess or classical/jazz/folk music, or art. I’m remain forever humble to your way with words: the poet’s way. StaySafe😷 Happy Sunday!
P.S. By accident this comment turned out to be a post on my blog. My apologies.
Hi Lawrence, Thank you and I hope you’re staying safe too.
I’m stay. Thanks 😊
Pardon the typos: “I’m pardon”
Thanks for the Like
A pleasure Lawrence 😊