A Daydream

Ants mystically fulfill their days as a stream of life flowing

Energetically rearranging each minute of an hour

Orderly and precision-like weave together the fray

In Eucalyptus caverns foraging through leaves.

(Do they pray, or joyously copulate? )

I ponder the sky roundly hovering overhead

A giant I am and yet minutely fallen

Thoughts not unlike theirs programmed to function

At clockwork pace ticking, unaware of the outcome

Engaged in scheduled circumstances (the fetters of passion)

I lock onto your image and believe for a second we could be capable of love,

or sex between spaces of words still forming

of stellar naked glimpses behind the veil of day

Where the light of the blind leads ants and all mystical others

to what you musingly call "a magical moment".