Anthills of the Savannah

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Take a walk in the Savannah,

Listen to the song of birds and trees,

See the wonders of the land:

The harmony of rocks, and grass, 

And the awe of ants and anthills.

Feast your eyes on castles of clay

Built with patient labour and craft

Plastered by seasonal rainstorms,

Baked to artistic perfection

By daily scorching suns, and

Frequent blazing bushfires.

 


Inspiring folk are the Savannah ants

Going up and down all day

In silent, profound labour

Tunnelling, firming, raising walls

Until the fort stands majestic.

Even when we cut it down,

As we are wont to do 

They build it right back up

Without a sound of protest or grumble

 


Go to the ant, you sluggard!

Learn the dignity of labour,

See the marvels wrought by

Little hands and little heads.

Stand in awe of Savannah anthills.

Listen to the sermonizing of ants;

"Turn your hands from idleness and bloodshed,

Your heads from evil machinations and mischief,

And your mouths from idle chatter and slander".

What sermon could be more compelling? 










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