Turbulence

Knight of Cups & Strength

Is he like me? my father asks
Is he an ant like me?
 
I had to pause, 
and picture myself an ant— 
 
I’ve dreamt of this before
in 2012, 
right before,
 
 
THE END OF THE MAYAN CALENDAR
 
remember that nonsense?
 
I had dreamt of being an ant, 
of looking up from wet dirt, 
the smell of after-rain 
filled my small ant body—
something in me, trembled
a quake of hooves and thunder rushing,
lava followed—
a great fire erupted, 
animals ran from it
dripping heavy with fear
tremendous noises filled the air
I burrowed into my colony
decided to take out the trash
at a later time
 
but the question was about foraging,
my father asked if my husband foraged
as he had foraged,
Did he defend the nest?
Was I the Queen?
 
 
YES, I answered
We have built a swarm of warmth
he carries my weight
in all its symptoms
in all its revelations
 
Now I can rest, he said
Now I can rest…