i was an insect
on a divine windshield
a speck of dust
on an otherwise stainless garb
when wiper blades swept me down
in my infancy
a young brood
i am guts
i am blood
i am gross things

Imagine us
the size of ants
dancing among the
flowers and the grass,
the bugs and
the bees.

Spiders roam through my open ears
there are slugs in my mouth
there are flies in my eyes

these are my disguise

hiding in my mind
body inhabited by bugs
never to be seen again

Their leader was very persuasive, repeatedly
promising them sanctuary from the
dangers they all faced in that
daily struggle to survive.

they were all seeking
the same thing,

A Light

that would show them
the way
                    to  Salvation..


at the onset of dusk
they headed out boldly,
numbering in the hundreds
—a single destiny.

the journey was long and treacherous
with many of them falling behind.
some succumbed to exhaustion, thus
becoming victims of nocturnal predators.

eventually the destination is reached,
a Holy Illumination just ahead,
that same light described
in the stories told to the
little ones each
night

some were so overcome with emotion,
they became careless and fell short.
the leader exclaimed with such exuberance
"God, to think that I would hesitate !!!"

the survivors —en mass—
ventured into
                              The Light...

—

Robert Caine was taking a nap on his
back patio after a bit too much to drink.

His sleep was suddenly disturbed by
a great many pops, cracks, and zaps
emanating from his bug lamp...



"the scope of salvation"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

As I stare at the verses,
I must seem so still.
She casts a web
from where she sits
and I smile,
but knowingly,
lower her body
down to the table.
She scatters again towards
the page I have just
turned and together we
weep for beauty

Small and tree dwelling,
I can hear the noise swelling.
A family of hoppers,
Next to the popper.
Who I am telling.