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How peaceful and fine
it is to watch a moving ant

A march, a scuttle
a momentary pause

routes and patterns
much too advanced

I wonder what you’re planning next

There’s crumbs out yet
you appear to ignore them all

Sometimes its you, scoping about
And then some moments your friends too

I go about baking
your visits alongside
Comfortable and conscious
at the same time

It’s time to clean the counters now
but I cannot bear wiping
where you’re hanging out

And when I see you there
with a crumb
crouched beneath the bowl of fruit

My heart is a thousand smiles

Tiny little ant,
how do I thank the Lord
He put you graciously
in my soul.