As I gaze out of the restaurant window,
I see dead bodies strewn across the pavement.
Then I note a few still alive, crawling, slowly crawling
To where? Most to nowhere.
So many die, so many die.
But a some live on, joyfully propagating in such abundance
To keep the species alive.
Is this the meaning of life,
Simply to keep the species alive?
Endlessly reproducing, endlessly reproducing
Until some unusual disaster puts a stop to it.
But they have survived many disasters:
Freezing winters, burning summers, droughts, wars, tornados.
To crawl out of their safe places again.
Making loud music, making loud music.
So it will take more than has been seen.
Such a short life, a few days perhaps.
But wait, wait, they have lived!
Seventeen years they stayed in safe places, living.
Something to take comfort in. Something to take comfort in.
19 May 2004
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