Why step on the bug,
Out here on the sidewalk paved
With the intention
Of leading us place to place –
No obstacles in our way?
The bug is minute,
It barely forces a step
Aside the margin
Leaving the path to follow –
If we are daring enough.
Why is the bug here?
Is the memory hidden,
Of the fear once known,
When the world was wilderness –
With doubt explored, overcome?
How are we now grown,
That the innocent insect
Raises our instinct
To kill, destroy, and conquer –
When victorious – we are?
Found superior,
How are we very challenged
By creatures beyond
Our overwhelming control –
Are we from nature estranged?
The bug is wonder –
For it continues, exists,
Outside reckoning
To eliminate its life –
Clinging loosely, it persists.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Prompt: Reach for a subject that touches you differently.
Haphazard Creative 