Looking, Longing

There is an ant on a rock,
Collecting, scavenging.
He looks up at a Bird of Paradise,
Feathers and plumage fair,
Vivid and intricate:
A beacon of radiant beauty.

The ant wonders what it would be like,
To not be misunderstood,
Like the bird.
Why must he work so hard?
The bird is effortless
In it's elegance.

The bird looks down,
But she sees nothing of the ant,
Looking and longing.