Amy's insects are crawling
singing softly by night
chattering by day
what in their wisdom
are these ancient ones
trying to say?
Much effort it takes to listen.
But the sense at last appears:
"Thomas!" they say (for now it is
perfectly clear)
"A. You don't have a soul--
but, B. That's OK:
You don't really need one!
So don't freak out."
