I am a bug

I am the bug, upon which you tread.  Is it because I am small?

Know me, for I am whole

But how tall are you that you must demonstrate your might through indifference, violence and control?    You give me no more import than a grain of sand, and value me less.

Our mother knows my worth.  You reside in your castle shielded from her wisdom, adorning yourself with the ornamental trappings of meaningless wealth.  But of course you know best.  All that you accumulate and hoard is testament to your status and power.  You wrap your ego in a veil of short-loved tweets whose existence is no more corporeal than the dream that faded in the haze of your worries about a day that has not yet come to show its face.  You pull your blanket of followers, likes and loves about you, to comfort you in your isolation.  You find solace in the metal cage that connects you to your farce.

But I am here, the bug, upon which you tread.  And I stand taller than you.

For beneath your feet lies a world so much bigger than your own.  With each lived moment of my life, I will feel a connection from which you are severed.  I am whole.  You are sick.  You search for cures in the chemicals of your own making, destroying those that our mother has provided.  You are drowning in your sea of despair, floating vainly to the surface with another scheme to make the world better by serving it with destruction.  But you are no longer adapted to the waters from which you came.  You stand on two feet and stomp on the seeds of your sustenance.

But know me.  I am the bug, upon which you tread.  Under the canopy of forest’s protection, I thrive.  As can you.  Between the interconnected roots of ancient trees, I thrive.  As can you.  I do their bidding for their will is mine.    I am in communion with the mycelium that runs between your toes if only you’d take your shoes off to know us.  We filter the poison from the earth that you have provided to keep your waters clean.  Together, connected, we thrive.  As can you.  If only you’d join us.

You have lost the mystery of being whole.  You create your own detachment to stand taller than I.  But at the moment your ego dies you will know how very short and insignificant your life has been.  Return as a bug, whole and as large as the universe you fail so miserably to comprehend.

There are problems in your life for which you have an obligation to never give up trying to solve.


Inspired by Calen’s Sandbox Challenge No. 59: The Problem with Tigers.




7 thoughts on “I am a bug

  1. “With each lived moment of my life, I will feel a connection from which you are severed…But at the moment your ego dies you will know how very short and insignificant your life has been.” Such beautiful and true thoughts. That’s a pretty amazing piece of writing!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love bugs. As an entomologist I studied them. As a naturalist I valued them. It saddens me to see the huge decline in population that has occurred in my life-time.
    Nice perspective.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’ve become increasingly fascinated by life in soil. I’ve come to the belief that soil is the most valuable resource for the future. Think I wrote something about saving soils a while back. It’s quite amazing how quickly it comes to life with a bit of nurturing. Trying hard not to be sad about it, but I am all the same.

      Liked by 1 person

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