Saved the ladybird from drowning, but then crushed it

Poem by Suraj Shah.

Teeny tiny ladybird, swimming in the luke-warm camomile tea,
Trying desperately to save from drowning, trying very hard to flee;
My wife helps it onto the teabag, a makeshift vessel to it’s station,
Taking the tiny being from it’s ocean of death, to it’s safe salvation.

I gently pick up the mug and move it to the edge of the bathroom sink,
Take the teabag out, place it on the edge, save the insect from the drink;
Feeling proud that I saved this soul from experiencing a tragic fateful end,
I go downstairs to get another drink, but I fail to fully comprehend.

For when I return back up, I absent mindedly head straight to the loo,
I go to sit down, without a second thought, commence a number two;
Then when I look down, and what do I see, a shocking new discovery,
I’m responsible now, for killing this ‘bird, from this life it really did flee.

Isn’t it strange how, when we try really hard, to repair a difficult situation,
That with the best of intent, and no harm meant, we destroy God’s creation;
It turns out, that’s how it was meant to be, the end the ladybird did meet,
Saved from the water, lived a bit longer, ultimately crushed beneath my feet.

(Photo courtesy of Hamed Saber)

One Day Life Changes

Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Heena Modi.

I wrote this poem when I was remembering my father. He passed away a few years ago. Perhaps it will help you understand someone else who has lost someone that they loved, will increase the compassion in you, or help you deal with your feelings about the death of a loved one.

One Day Life Changes

Fewer places to set at the table
Fewer seats taken in the car
One less person to cook for
One less person to eat with
One less person to look after
One less person to share things with
One less birthday to celebrate
One less anniversary to remember
One less parent’s day
Less future memories with them with them
No fewer memories from the


Are they still here?
Are they watching over us?
Are they helping us?
Are they holding us?
Are they giving us strength?
Are they manipulating us?
Are they fulfilling wishes which death robbed them of?
Are they finding their path to peace through us?
Are they learning the answers to questions they never dared ask?
Are they protecting us?

Will we ever know?
Will we ever see them again?
Were they not a soul in a body which was simply a tool to help us SEE that soul?
The body has died.
The soul has not.
So how do we recognise them now?
With a feeling?
A sensation?
A special energy?

A primary school teacher by day, Heena Modi writes about family, spiritual, and environmental matters at her blog.