I sprinkled breadcrumbs for the ants yesterday,
Watched each one take its share and scurry away.
None offered thanks, not a single sign,
Yet my ego remained intact, perfectly fine.
Their tiny virtues meant nothing to me,
I expected no return, no gratitude, no decree.
At any moment, I could have crushed their home,
Yet I let them live, allowed them to roam.
They bore witness to my simple act,
A kindness small, yet perfectly intact.
How powerful it felt, to hold such sway,
To shape their world in a single display.
For every problem, I had a tiny solution,
Perhaps, in their eyes, I bore a deity’s illusion.