This Worm

A poem

This worm, in rain, comes out to the air

My life, no different, as I watch and stare.

How small my dreams are no greater than thee

Of the worm whose life is just like me.

Hubris be gone, let humble reign,

As we crave to live, all life’s the same.

So little time, yet so much to do

And what happens when we’re all through?

The end is the same for the worm and me

With nothing left but our own vanity

What shall we do to not suffer this fate?

Embrace the now, for it’s never too late

Live in gratitude, it’s never too late

I thank you all, it’s not too late.

Phiya

August 11, 2026