Seduction

Seduction

Embedded in mud and muck,
breath stinking of flies and worms,
the toad emerges to bask in moonlight.

The will to creation drives him.
Slime-covered, bedecked with warts, cold-blooded as he is, he is still tasked with seduction.

All creation is based on seduction. Bees and flowers,
men and women, stars and planets, collide, join, multiply.

Nature has a cruel sense of humor. She makes the clumsiest of us dance and the most tone-deaf sing. She laughs at our clumsy pirouettes.

So the toad sings his lonely song, gurgling, tuneless, and solitary. He calls out to the dark,
"Come to me, come to me, come to me." And waits.