An ant was caught up in its wandering…wondering…not. And why? The chemical transitions of mundane, (as defined by those not ants) dictated the predictable journey of the ant… Yet, an ant was caught up in its wandering…wondering…not.

In a book many find inspiration from, the Holy Bible, the paradox, the metaphor, the story is presented to an ant caught up in its wandering…wondering…yet, not fully embraced or content (as defined by those not ants).

Each and every soul wanders…wondering…not. And why? Because it already knows the knowledge, the answer… so what is the problem? Answer: Nothing (as defined by those not ants)

An ant sought solace from family of familiar. The colony. The queen. The soldiers. The workers. The pile/hole called, home. Food. Comfort. Expansion. Journey. A trail for the ant to follow…wandering…wondering…not.

Do ants walk upon the surface of the water? Do ants circle the stars? What is it ants do? So much…yet so much nothing?

A view from side to side                                                                                                                          a view from back to front                                                                                                                      and these sensations of                                                                                                                          something…

Love.

Peace

Hate.

Evil.

War.

The soul knows all… so much so it is above an ants real understanding

And yet the ant clings to wandering… to wondering, about nothing.

A soul… ah yes… there is what an ant cannot truly embrace or understand. Only.

Snippets and pieces, much like an ant bringing wing or bit, to a puzzle of consumption. Parts leading to fullness, still, hollowed out hunger and need/desire.

Future has past, past has future, for ALL to wander…to wonder… to TRY in explainable failure…as God smiles.

God, the laughter in a Nova’s explosion. Such guffaw when a baby hummingbird first takes flight. A chortle concerning a whale devoured by disease. And yet, with human understanding, the conflicts become almost incomprehensible,  by the reprehensible, twisting trail so chosen by the ants to travel.

Clapping hands as soaring heights laughs the eagle. Burrowing worms turning rock into soil. Joyous expletives where shit poisons, where bullets tear flesh and familiar.

A cosmic comedy in play where an ant will be caught up in wandering… wondering… not.