The geometer moths who as inchworm larvae appear to measure the earth. And doesn't every child have the potential to weigh up the planet, and gauge what we so called clever adults have done with the world that they are now set to inherit from us?
This haiku deserves to be widely appreciated, April-Lyn! A truly magical poem.
Ah, inchworms. How rarely did I ever come across them as a child, but how captivated whenever I did!
And now, as I savour the sensations this poem evokes, I remember the tickle of an inchworm on my palm as a child. And in a funny way, this nostalgia prompts a wave of sabi. Because I know my hand has become larger and my palm less sensitive as I have grown into adulthood and now middle age. Would I still feel that tickle any more, even if I could rediscover that creature? And I muse too that if the tiny inchworm measured its way across my hand, reading my palm, the steps would be so much smaller. Like the time remaining for pursuing life's adventures.