This Ant and I

We are space,

made up

of particles,

spinning,

and circling. 

Forces,

holding,

pulling,

pulsing, 

creating the illusion,

of form.

 

This I heard,

on my way,

hurtling,

through space,

towards home,

in a vehicle,

made up of

particles, 

held together

by forces,

that I can not see,

but must believe in.

 

Then,

an ant, 

making its way,

along the couch,

and if it’s true,

that we are mostly space,

held together by forces,

we can not see, 

this ant and I,

this car and I,

this woman and I,

then: 

let me spend,

the rest of my life,

in a state,

of 

perpetual wonder.

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