Ants

Ants

            I saw you as a child, watching cats. They would lounge around all day, no seeming purpose. They were vicious at times, docile and agreeable at others. The littlest thing could make them run away, or lash out at you depending on their mood. They were lazy, and always seemed bored. You never were a cat person.

            I saw you as a teenager, watching ants. They would scurry along, busy as ever, never slowing down. You would put things in front of them, but they would get around it or go over it, never stopping. You would laugh at how pathetic they seemed, at how they were always busy, never time for relaxation, just trying to survive. Then you would destroy their hill and they would have to start all over again.

            I saw you as an adult, watching turtles. They were slow, but always seemed busy and with a purpose. They were content, like you wished you were. They could move slow like you couldn’t, they could relax and just lay about like you wanted to. You were always jealous of turtles, and wanted to be one often.

            I saw you as an old man, reminiscing about dogs. You had one as a child, and always played with it. It was playful, and happy, and oblivious to the world. You loved that dog, and still do to a point. Dogs always brightened your day, even if they could be troublesome at times, and annoying at others. You always loved dogs.

            And I see you now, on your death bed. You miss dogs, and all their playfulness. You miss cats, and their ability to be lazy. You miss ants, and how they were always busy. And you miss turtles, and their being content and slow. You miss being able to run, jump, be lazy, be busy, and be content. You miss everything. But now, it’s over, and you’ll be a dog, cat, ant, and turtle again.