Daily Grind

A jackhammer in the neighborhood
pounding stone and earth,
drowning out birdsong, robbing calm.
An arsenal's worth of din.

And now a buzz saw
whirring madly into something.
Already a hive, the mind's on overtime,
practically its own undoing.

Pacing is too bland a balm,
the dartboard's put away.
Better that the target be
imaginary anyway.

Mentored by the ants,
we lift more than we can carry,
striving beyond the breaking point,
our muses arbitrary.

Geometric honeycombs,
the bowerbirds' decor,
frantic wasps' mud condos,
tree stumps' polypores.

Blink and you'll miss it,
this cacophony of life.
A beaver's dam, architects' shrines,
sculptors with their carving knives.