what if they imagine themselves jewels
in some fanciful crown
and so they pose for us
on meadow spears ocasionally
as we pass by unheeding
or glinting, along the ground
the little bugs
remind us that we are fleeting
though they are
smaller than tears.
who are we in your Kingdom Lord
perhaps they pray
through their short years
in the heat of the day
when their music infensifies
and why are the shade trees so far away
when we can only crawl
oh you who are wise
for us, everything is an Everest.
still do we praise thee and forever blest
you have made for us the meadow seas,
and clouds and stars float above us
the same and the breezy breeze
as for the Others.
and dreams.
mary angela douglas 8 july 2017
