Awareness Allegory

The cattle have some selection principle.
They graze, counterclockwise, around the meadow.
After they’ve passed, there’s plenty of green grass left,
And they seem intent. They must be selecting.
Their lowing, ponderous choreography,
Rotating boustrophedon, seems verse-worthy,
But who composes cattle hymns anymore?
How many peoples still thrive for whom the tropes
Of beauty draw on comparisons to cows,
For whom wealth is measured in numbers of cows,
For whom the cow’s a fine symbol for the soul?