Sunday, November 20, 2016

The Swatter

The Swatter
Last night I swatted a yellow wasp
On the curtain above my bed
He instantly disappeared from my view
So I assumed that he was dead

Not so

This morning I found him near the door
Mangled, wounded, but crawling
He was trying desperately to move outside
Despite his legs and bent wings were sprawling

He had spent the whole night struggling to simply survive

I knew his end, his ultimate demise
So once more I took the swatter
With significant might
Two swats to end his bitter fate

Now I feel like Hitler
Like Stalin
Like Mao

Why? You say,
It was just an insect
Just a nothing
One amongst the millions

Yes, that’s what Hitler, Stalin, and Mao
Said also
See life is just too intricate
Too beautiful
To be snuffed out because of fear

See, I was afraid of being hurt
I was afraid of experiencing pain
So therefore I exerted the power in my domain
To exterminate life

To terminate the wonders of biology

Now I wrestle with guilt, with shame
My theology is nothing but a cold, hard stone
I wonder what life would be if life could go on

With just a little admiration and a wonder.

No comments:

Post a Comment