Searching for a Tunnel

I found a tunnel
in the wall,
and the mind longed
to crawl inside.
 
So many days
in hiding already,
eyes avoiding eyes,
slipping toward the shelter
of darkness.
 
Ants enter—
one by one,
in strict procession,
carrying food
for their winter sleep.
 
I too fragment,
become smaller,
as small as possible—
as if arrogance itself
were peeled away.
 
At the mouth of the tunnel
I strip off the body’s
so-called divinity,
push aside the armor,
become a sliver,
barely human.
 
Yet if a man finds a tunnel
he too will slip inside—
not as a hero,
but as a fugitive.
 
Into the eternal hiding place,
following ants,
step after step,
toward the vanishing.