Look closer still

A shield/squash/stink bug on the bathroom floor

At first glance screams

Imposter! garden wrecker! vermin!

(Or, at the very least: Bug. Nothing more. A different sort of insult.)

But watch.

And watch.

Look closer still.

Watch it walk on those six legs

And it becomes a mesmerizing surprise:

The spindly, stickish legs stop being that and instead

– No longer incidental or beneath me –

Become wielders of a gait now screaming purpose! the most sophisticated design!

The walk-cadence measured, perfect, purpose-full

The intricacy and design of its little form

An ideal and remarkable symphony of parts and function

Fitted for reaching its anywhere.

 

And then

– As if its organic perfection wasn’t enough –

One may see the real greatness marker:

It is missing a foot.

 

I didn’t notice,

These few minutes of notice,

That its gait, for all its tiny marked grandeur, belies even more dignity.

Uncomplaining, crutchless,

With no sign of giving up or stopping or changing course,

This wondrous creature keeps on.

Doggedly carries on in spite of, in light of,

(and quite seemingly nonplussed about)

Its disability.

Rather than diminishing its nobility

becomes more-so because of it.

While it has a leg to stand on

It doesn’t just stand:

it moves.

As ever, it is the handicapped vision of the seer

that needs bolstering.