The Paradox of Nobility

One morning in my portico,
as I sat on my swing,
enjoying the breeze,
hearing the birds sing.

Up on a wall crevice I found,
a spider had cast its web.
An ant struggled to escape from it;
of urgent succour, it was in need.

As the old-wily spider crept to its prey,
the ant struggled harder, seeing its end.
A bout of nobility struck my head;
I broke the web and saved the ant.

Relieved, the ant walked off.
I went back happily to my swing.
The hungry spider, bereft of its prey,
too old to re-spin, ended up dying.

The 'web' of nature is so intricate,
here one's death is other's life.
My smug nobility lay rebuffed;
for in saving the ant, I took spider's life.

I always carry a first aid kit
to help anyone in need.
Ever ready to salve others' injury;
be it a small bruise, or a mild bleed.

One day in a bus
a co-passenger was injured.
Out came my kit to soothe;
he was relieved and I was pleased.

But a sudden shock, a moment later,
came to me in a flash of light.
Am I to take the credit for helping him
or to take the blame for his plight?

The seed of desire carries with it
the hidden tree of its fulfillment.
The fellow's injury was not a cause here,
my desire for nobility lead to his predicament.

In the existing reality,
a doctor is a noble man.
But in a healthy society,
he is a nonentity.

The nobility of curing is
but an after-effect of disorder.
It would meet its obsolescence
in neverland and its inherent order.

In a utopian world, nobility is extinct.
In the death of utopia, nobility is born.
It needs suffering to survive,
and ironically, calamities to thrive.