A SonAnt
by Jimmy Tompkins
I sit by stream upon a stump a while
And wait to see what creatures I compile
At first it felt a helpless task to me
Until, in quiet, a little ant I see
It was a tiny little thing, that ant
Which I did find crawling upon a plant.
The tree the ant had scaled was young, still thin
With youthful green a color of its skin.
The ant makes hills and holes safely in ground
So why is this one ant up here, now found?
As I pondered this thought which had me stumped,
three more small ants into my sight had jumped!
And then the more I looked the more I saw -
Round me were ants both large and small. I awe.
About a dozen of the little bugs
Had been giving the tree a dozen hugs
‘Twas still unknown to me why in the tree
The ants did climb; no thing they seemed to flee.
Whate’r the real reason be for the climb,
The ants, they knew, and did it in their time.
I sit and watch; reflect the lesson learned:
Patience can well assist, when eyes concerned.