Relationships' vicissitudes
Are mysteries making me stronger.
Not because I understand,
But because I (try to) withstand
The chaos love can bring to a lover.
I love this earth, my Mother,
But I tantrum like a two year old
To protest the test she has bestowed
On me, her ignorant, growing child
Who knows so little about the wild.
Why did she spill a million bugs
To attack my humble abode?
She knows I have nowhere else to go
During this pandemic spent at home.
Perhaps she wanted to keep me busy
As I became queasy
Cleaning the biblical proportion
Of ugly, dead bug splats
In my comfortable habitat.
Why would she do that?
To teach me that love IS
Not perfect, predictable, blind,
Or always kind,
Devoid of anger or fury?
To contrast the illusion
Of ugliness and beauty?
Or perhaps, she simply wants my recognition
That love is an expedition
To discover if there is a border
Between myself and the other.
They are called 'false chinch bugs', though there's nothing false about them. To me they are just tiny gnats. New Mexico has had a huge infestation of them this year. My neighborhood has been attacked with swarms of little pests and my house was one of the homes they loved. They are tiny, come in through every nook and cranny, fly around to land on humans, food, pets, etc.
As much as I love mother nature, I was extremely angry at her for allowing these visitors into my home. I spent most of my time vacuuming them up as they quickly appeared again like magic. They know the secrets of quick procreation. They're gone now because they only stick around for about a week - just enough time to leave me traumatized.
I love nature. Bugs and pandemics are parts of nature. Love is complicated.
For Earthwheel.
Oh my goodness, a week of that must have been awful. Yikes. A good reminder that not all of nature is wonderful - especially not welcome inside our homes. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteI smiled at this. I've had flies for about a week, can't get rid of them. Where they came from I don't know. Insects, at least those not of the ladybug or butterfly variety, are definitely a trial. Still, we need each other, so how to co-exist is a constant dance. (K)
ReplyDeleteLove is indeed complicated. And messy and sometimes difficult and painful - all of which your poem beautifully recognises. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteSomeone (Rumi?) said that poetry is the language of the heart and your poetry so often speaks directly to mine.
Coming to your blog after a long time Myrna. Lot of catching up to do
ReplyDeleteWhat a difficult time that must be. Bug infestations can be horrible. Your poem conveyed your conflicting emotions well. Suzanne of Mapping Uncertainty
ReplyDeleteWe've had a similar infestation here in Florida - in our house, anyway -- something between a gnat and a mosquito which is seen fleetingly but feasts on our ankles while we watch TV at night. I look at the stray cats we feed outside (we have 2 indoor and have to keep 'em apart) and they doze on the grass with swarms of bugs around them -- nothing they can do about it but co-exist -- human habitation reinforces the illusion of separation, I think. Love ain't perfect for sure.- Brendan
ReplyDeleteIt is not just a nuisance but can be a source of health hazard. It is one of those things difficult to eradicate!
ReplyDeleteHank