The Bug on the Windscreen
A small reflection inspired by an even smaller insect.
I noticed a bug on my windscreen during a drive and ended up thinking about how much of life feels like holding on while everything else speeds past you.
The bug stayed in my thoughts afterwards, so I wrote a short poem about it.
The Bug on the Windscreen
There was a bug on my windscreen
So calm and small and still,
The world went roaring past unseen,
As he held his place at will.His knees were bent against the force,
He didn’t seem afraid,
As though this high-speed motor race
Was a conscious choice he made.I watched him like I watch my thoughts
When they won’t stay in line,
Clinging where they shouldn’t go
But somehow, I manage just fine.I wondered if he had a plan,
Or feared that he may fall,
Or whether bugs, like certain men,
Don’t question much at all.I thought of all the times I’ve tried
To map out what comes next,
And found the future often responds
With something uncomplex.The bug, of course, did nothing wise,
No lesson to impart,
He simply stayed there, through the drive,
A speck of stubborn art.And when at last he disappeared,
As things they tend to do,
I smiled and caught a passing thought:
I could let go too.- KJ Ferrari
It was only a bug on a windscreen during an ordinary drive home. Nothing about it was unusual, and nothing changed because of it. But it stayed with me anyway, in the way small, ordinary things sometimes do.