Tiny Mighty... The ANT

So magnificent it appears but not to forget, the anthill was formally a bare ground. When ant finds food bigger than it can carry, that’s an impossibility.

ADAPT

To change your behaviour, state, character, motive or nature to make it easier to function better or survive for a purpose. If you acclimatize to a different course without any purpose, then you are not better than flowing water. Your life must not be directed by situations just because you can adapt. Water flows in any direction that you channel it. All it needs is a little space.

NORMALIZE

The word ‘Normal’ as used by humans could mean different but similar in relation to different situations. But to normalize here, I am referring to coming back to a desired expected state.

TRANSFORM

To transform is to change completely usually in a positive way, (Merriam Webster). Any word with trans usually does not connote something static or not changeable. Transportation, transition, translation are all step-by-step processes. Forming something usually requires creating a thing and causing it to exist as you desire it. Therefore, transformation could be seen as a change in the state of something by desiring to make it better. To transform only means improving and and rewriting a better story.

Combine all three and you are wiser than the ANT

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WHEN I GROW UP

Now I don’t know what to think, but some day it will all be in ink. I look without seeing, am I even a human being. To me, everything exists without meaning. My language is a cry, but I only calm myself with a smile. Today I take milk, but tomorrow I will break bones. Now am wrapped in silk, but soon I will wear clothes. Hmm! They leave me in pampers, am now among toddlers. Both the young and old handle me. Love and admiration are all I can see. Sometimes how hurtful it can be, especially when bathed by the geriatric. I have no option than to accept their plea. In fact a little smile does the trick. I am now a boy but frankly, am coy. I can’t even cook but I can eat yolk. Where is all the tenderness, where is all the care? How come all this harshness, why all these snare? My ideas are not significant, as tiny as an ant. All my vocals create fun, commonly ignored with laughter. I hate this pan; maybe, I should sound louder. But my cry is an unnoticed plea When shall I be free, I wish I ...

YOUR own PEN

Something mostly divine, Sometimes, it's ours to define. Unlike the plant called Vine, Destiny seldom has pine. And it is our duty to prune and refine. From the feet till we see the spine. It may be a good omen, To which we shout Amen. It might have a fault to mend or dirt to filter, Which might make us think that God did falter. But we can write our own destiny. Yes, we always do. Remember that road you used to the mill, The particular person you talked to, Has it not been your own will? When you wanted to learn, Even when in prayer you did yearn, You took that training seriously, And you passed out successfully, That was your own destiny. That was your pen on paper. When you write, no one can alter. I am the secretary of the God you don't know. Now wait while I print yours out to show. Written down by you as white as snow.

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