Literary Yard

Search for meaning


By: Paulo Lorenzo Garcia


There’s an ant
Scuttling towards me
Going off in all directions frantically.
A note of urgency alluded to by the length of its strides
And the acreage it covered
The thought of killing it
Had crossed my mind
I’ve even drawn my arm back
And contemplated ending him with a whack!
But as I held my fist aloft,
I stopped myself instinctively
And opted to give it a thought
You think it would be tired by now, but no
There the lone ant dashed
Pacing back and forth
Frisking about
Swirling and tracing circles
On the surface of the table
Spryly scuttling from one corner to the next
Walking the rectangular table’s edge
And nearly brushed past me several times
Thinking it would give me a noxious bite
Yet it seemed the solitary figure thought twice
As he turned left and swerved to the right
Or perhaps he, preoccupied, paid me no mind
And that’s when I realized
When does one walk aimlessly?
The ant doesn’t travel with anyone
And seemed to seek something desperately
Perhaps the ant, like me, disoriented
Seeks only to find his way
Perhaps the ant, like me, is alone
And I, his only companion.
Thinking this, I was appalled at my evil intentions!
For who was I to kill him?
And if I were to kill him
In an attempt to end his ambivalent misery,
Must I risk ending his life abruptly
For someone only halfway through his journey?
The anthill is to the ant
As Calvary is to man
If he were to find the anthill again,
And I my Calvary
I knew I had to let him go
And so I rose from my seat
Then went on my way
to find my Calvary,
hoping never to pass this way again


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