Each From Our Own Perspective

And where do you fit in Life's Master Plan?
A small brown beetle – drab and plain, you wave
those filiform antennae as you scan
me, just as I am scanning you! I gave
you space to fly away, but no, you chose
to stay and face gigantic me. How brave!

For one tense moment, fearing war, you rose
upon your hind legs, geared to fight a man,
but I backed off, to leave you in repose.

Now you and I have called a truce, and bask
(I think) in mutual accord – regard
each other from perspectives where I ask
about your place in Life . . . your drab façade
a point I note, but judging mine's a task
you'd scorn, and watchful, you remain on guard.