He had been there for a couple of days
in my toilet, hovering around;
all my efforts to capture him in my closing palms
always, always, drew negative results
He could have easily feasted on me while I snored,
but, for all that I know, never was I disturbed;
sure, therefore, he was not after my blood,
group A plus, which mosquitoes are famed to gulp
This morning, while shaving, I saw him in the mirror
behind me perched on the wall
in a sort of sagely meditation;
a swift turn and a slap then sufficed
To extinguish life into a modern painting
spread across the toilet wall tile
to interpret which our intellectual brains
would no doubt spend sleepless nights
But not a drop of blood did I notice;
perhaps, the poor thing was fasting,
doing penance for a guilt of the past;
no wonder then he chose to be non-sanguine
The habitual sucker, perhaps, was a saint;
how foolish, as ever,I was ignorant again.
Mosquito, insect or whatever,
he had a reason of his own to be there
In my surrounds like a teacher
in the scheme of things universal.
Asinine we don’t understand, no wonder,
inscrutable isn’t the divine order?
Thank you friend for the lesson
I am taught now not to transgress
into the being of others
for my silly comfort and fears
A seed of remorse you placed
in my heart gone rabid
about bodily comforts, sorry;
help me now live life without worry
not swayed by pleasure and pain
equanimous like you ever have been
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