Hungry and Mute in the Depths

In the metaphor of the mayfly,
Beloved shifter of perspectives,
The embodied mind is the mayfly

That lives its few trifling, lightweight hours
Before it dies for good. Good. Be that.
Be quick. Dart over surfacing waves

Wildly, near randomly, dance your jig
That attracts the monster jaws to break
Out of the depths to swallow you up.

So what? In your delirious reels,
You’ve sampled the breadth of the shallows
You saw. Tomorrow, you’re the monster.