One


An intrusion paralyzes my left side.  It rests inside my cheekbone, denying access
to whatever intelligence
exists within the left brain.
Void of temporal, methodical, sequential thought I exist within intuitive space.
Mine is a random existence,
concrete and in the moment,
tempered with patterns, tones, touch. I would cry easily yet I never cry for myself.
 What is there to cry about?  Each moment reveals new life.  I shut off ticking
seconds of past
pain, erased from memory.
Repressed, I disconnect my right brain, clamp it down
like a stressed jaw Void of industry.


Two


I enter a glistening cave;
a rich chamber round, cool, dark, shimmering with
calcium carbonate crystals.
A distant echo of trickling water.  A hospitable spirit guide with feelers.  All
tasks equal, my ant wends its way
past stalagmites and pillars, releasing pheromones of honor and respect, despite my
inability to process information systematically.
Digging a tunnel where past tectonic incidents caused collapse, treading softly
within cracks, feeding me
organic feces, hefting me upon its bony spine, persevering even as I stumble and whine;
demonstrating one on one, one by one, that one and one together transform dream into
reality.


Three


I enter the Queen’s nest with trepidation but the Queen Ant shrugs off my
interruption, kissing me with rainbow perfume.  In this moment I understand; We are
the same.  She rips her fairy wings; first the left
and then the right.  A great sadness overwhelms me.
Hers is a strange but gentle ego.  She fills the space with sensual pheromones. I
inhale this communication,
happy to explore my inclusion.
I am not a caterpillar Queen
wound tight into her chrysalis.  I will not emerge a butterfly.  We Ant Queens
diminish ourselves so we might uplift the children.

— Barbara Steinhauser 

Eye On Life Poetry Contest 2010-2011 Honorable Mention