Roaches, Ants and Humans

How often the question.
How often the ignoring.
How often the reality
That as a species we live lives
According to someone else’s purpose.

Perhaps…

Too many move through life
Embracing factotum,
Embracing servile doctrine,
Pushing religion,
Obsessing scholastic attainment,
Challenging career lures while forgetting…

Fulfillment eludes man-made designs,
Relies instead on discovery,
The inner being transparent.

Many hold to ignore our divine destiny to Be .

Such a quandary,
This idea of Being,
Thinking we know what we want,
What we need,
Who we truly are.

Oh. my…

Few choose to seek “their truth,”
Opting instead to crawl through endless trenches
Of waste and human rubble,
Enduring razor-like suffering,
Only to remain a stranger to one’s self.

Sadly …

These scars of self-mutilation subtly spread,
Metastasizing into bondage of heart and mind,
Leading to perhaps one last question.

Will our species ultimately become but alien anthropological studies?
Will we prove our existence as but a dot under the cosmic microscope?
Will we be an ironic exercise for revealing who we ultimately were not?

Or …

Might the oldest instinct of the planet finally kick in?

Roaches and Ants know survival.
We should have heeded the lessons…

But?