Art To War And Reverse Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Art to war and reverse

Through the countless years now past,
As old age beckons me at last,
A foot resting within the grave's embrace.

I sit as though a child anew,
A mound of earth before my view,
Watch the ants, their path a winding trace.

Unaware, they march and climb,
Unmindful of the future's time,
Little know I, they will sting and bite.

I squat in wonder, deep in thought,
Like a mouse in a maze caught,
Their ceaseless journey, day, and night.

The ants, in their relentless quest,
Transform to men, a strange bequest,
In the grand assembly of the Earth.

I mourn, fatigued, by humankind's deeds,
For too long I've watched their creeds,
Talking peace but sowing seeds of dearth.

I've heard the talk of war's cruel date,
'Is it the Rabbit's? ' they debate,
About months, seasons, day, and night.

Their origins, a mystery profound,
Some seek answers in the Bible bound,
Others turn to galaxies, shining bright.

Some in the 'Big Bang' their faith,
Or 'In Six Days, ' a different wraith,
In the struggle of belief, they fight.

Confusion reigns as I sit here,
Observing like a child, unclear
Is this a comedy or science's birth?

Which is the truth, I can't decide,
Lunar or Solar, they all confide,
Proclaiming, 'God is on our side! '

'God saved Noah from the flood, '
But sent destruction like a raging mud,
Their image of God, it seems, is wild.

And once again, just like a child,
I watch the mound, so meek and mild,
Seeing ants ascend in a single file.

I close my eyes, then open wide,
Witness the truth they try to hide,
See the ants as humankind's guile.

Upon the stage, the puppets play,
But who controls this grand array?
Is the show flawless? They believe?

Yet on the wall, in shadows cast,
Atlas bears the world steadfast,
I see the director in that conceive.

In my mind's eye, I see the strife,
From Libya's woes to Noah's life,
To/From Nagorno Karabakh's strife,

From Marrakech in Morocco's land,
To bullets, drones, and sinking sand,
Ukraine, Russia, nations at knife,

Children, mothers, husbands, wives,
And the bombers ending lives,
Atoms falling, fate on Hiroshima's,

Hawaii's shores and dinghies bound,
To Greece, they seek safe ground,
In Spain, Italy, a similar weight,

The Rio Grande's treacherous tide,
Where boats capsize, fears collide,
These scenes in my thoughts resonate.

I listen to the radio's news,
'In an hour or two, will arrive soon,
The summer's end, this very year! '

I hear and laugh, the lunacy clear,
In calendars, they bicker, I fear,
But the one in Iran, I hold dear.

With the equinox, the year's first morn,
Spring's arrival, newly born,
Three months of summer's gentle cheer,

Then autumn's hues and winter's snow,
Till equinox, when the seasons flow,
A cycle timeless, year to year.

As I gaze at bees and ants so small,
And witness worms in their quiet crawl,
Hoopoes, robins digging deep and low,

Shoveling earth for worms below,
I continue watching, feeling woe,
For humankind's evils continue to grow.