The Lice That Live
Poem By Linda Hepner
The lice that live upon thy eyelash have
As much the right as ye who live upon
My planet earth. Thus saith the Lord of High and Thine.
What can I make of such decrees as this?
My very nails rebel against the rule
Created when the world began in air and brine.
I scratch them from my skin which has the right
To grow in comfort, as the oak tree bark,
Or feathers on the eagle-eyed grey peregrine.
We homo sapiens, with egos fight
Our siblings God placed on soil and sea,
From stinging flea to shark or choking kudzu vine.
The gods, they say, like watching us for sport
In gladiator games with men and lions,
And we watch squawking chickens fight, blood red while dying.
O Maker, Lord of High, what’s Your Intent?
Bacteria and virus use me like
A jungle or arena or a plate to dine,
And so perhaps You will in words explain
What other creatures seem to know by heart
While we are told to stop, consider, read the sign.
I will respect the life that does no harm
To my small planet but I’ll swat the flies
And pour my wrath upon the Lord they call Divine.