Ant

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Ant

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #84

How cheery is the assiduous ant
Bearing its single grain of labour,
Weaving its way like motioned-art
Bearing burden of fresh treasure.

Uncaring of bark or soil or foot
He keeps to his tribe’s measure,
In battle and sacrifice magnificent 
Like a hero from a grand old lore.

Does it in its hives deliberate
On larval dreams that recur,
Or stand on a mound’s height
And say, “Ah, mine empire!”

How miraculous the least of nature is,
Yet dons in man her most sour face!