TALES FROM WORMY WOMP-PILE
"I am a worm, and no man" (Psalm 22:6)
Which worm would you become should you be given the choice to become a worm?
Worms, we know, are insignificant little creatures at best, and at their worst, they are they which one would desire to be unaware of altogether, should one be given such a choice.
Such is a people perspective of a simple little creature who has no other purpose but to remain alive until that time they are alive no longer.
Wormy perspective is discernably different from people perspective. And should you be in doubt of such a singular statement; feel free to inquire of any of the inhabitants of Wormy Womp-pile in order to ascertain if what I have told you is not so.
Wormies are a people in the eyes of other Wormies, that is if worms had eyes with which to view other Wormies with. Any one Wormy is wondrously unique from all other Wormies in a Wormy's acquaintance; just as different as you or I in the eye of one another.
Wormy Womp-pile is a world wonderfully bundled into a weird mixture of wondrously created worms; with each worm working diligently to make a workable world for himself and for the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile. This is not an easy feat to affect when one considers how woefully similar to we people the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have become.
One consideration to consider is their desires to cling to the earth from which they came, and to dig a hole in the same in which to climb.
While pondering the above point; ponder further that the worms of Wormy Womp-pile are disinclined to be inclined toward working in such a way which is workable for themself or for the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile.
Perhaps a pointed illustration will amplify my point to a point in which it may be more appropriately appreciated.
Consider this for the one hand, which hand will of needs be either yours or mine since none of the inhabitants of Wormy Womp-pile have a hand which they may offer. Worms are wonderfully adept at being inept with that which pertains to the imagination. Fiction, fantasies and fabrications abound in and on each and every mound upon which the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have chosen for their abode. This is not as much of a revealing revelation as it may seem considering that none of the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have a brain with which to do otherwise.
And for the other hand, it is yet the
same; for either hand is one hand more than we would have
had, had we chosen to be a worm in the realm of Wormy