Orange and brown Spider, the size of my thumbnail,
stands ready on her delicate strong web,
ruling nothing else
but her will to thrive.
White Cabbage Moth, the breadth of my kneecap,
flutters down in front of me,
seeming unable to keep a steady true course,
yet deftly surveilling me
and dodging Spider’s web.
Both so capable of,
maybe satisfied with,
weathering each second
with only what nature and evolution
have granted them.
I sit with them
on a folding wooden chair,
grateful and in awe
of their company,
but only at a distance
I think I can control.
I could wave Moth away.
I could collapse Spider’s web
with a swing of my arm.
Fear could move me
to spray them with insecticide.
My superior technology could extinguish them,
as if I had the right,
as if I was entitled
to a bigger share of creation.
Isn’t that what my kind
assumes as our privilege
just because we can?
And look what we’ve created with it –
a juggernaut of ruin.
Maybe it’s not too late
to study the humility, restraint, and wisdom
of other species.
