Walking down the usual path
Feet are trudging through the grass
Not a single interest point,
no companion ever joined.
Feeling weary, all burned out,
took a rest and thought about
the heavy rut that you are in,
the lost chances, what a sin.
Almost losing your control,
then your gaze fell on a pole.
A tiny caterpillar, working
through some leaves, looks like it’s twerking.
Funny thought, that is indeed,
but look close, beneath the weed:
some ants gathering a meal.
Watching them just makes you feel
not depressed, but open-minded,
your inner springs get back upwinded.
Start your engines, hit the road,
take a leap and leave that load
that shadowed all your happy feelings,
avoided that you break the ceilings.
Ignore your day-life’s usual grind,
look around and change your mind.
It’s not hard to realise,
‘tis the time to fantasise,
what these creatures might be doing
when there isn’t one that’s viewing.
Andreas Haas was born and raised in Germany. He wrote his first poem as a child of 7 and sent it to a local newspaper. It was published on the weekly children’s page. His first poem in English was written during an exchange year in the U.S. aged 17. None of those early poems remain.
Now, aged 54 and settled in Ireland, he has rediscovered his love of writing.
