Too oft’ it seems we don’t take note
Of things that live beneath the growth
Of lawn and such, inquiring shrubs,
Maple leaf, suspicious nubs.
We only seem to take to heart
The sun for tan, the fleeting lark,
The glory in a windy day,
The things a loving one will say.
Yet, down beneath the wondering feet
The ant and preying mantis meet
To scrub the tip of tickled leg
And walk the gate or wooden peg.
This world of living creatures thrives,
Too small to notice they’re alive.
But, there they are, the garter snake,
The beetle that escapes the rake.
The cricket that at night will sing,
Cicada through the day will scream;
The wee aphid can’t live without
His buddies near on any route.
The busy bee reminds this crowd,
“When they are near, they talk too loud!
So, watch that giant horrid clan!
They kick their feet! They’re known as man!”
And still together they allow
Ten million feet too harshly plow
The silence of their happy day
And mow their super world away.
If there is no one else who knows –
I do, my friends. My caring shows!
I watch you there, eyes quite intent;
I know for what your life was meant.
You wonder how I came to think
About this world, an eyelid’s blink?
I had to mow my lawn away
On one quite nice vacation day!
Deborah Lomax-Reid
© 1987
