It was storming something fierce
on the day Phylo T. Montgomery
wanted to go out and play.

Strangely, for all the sound and fury,
only a few drops fell
on the sidewalk outside.

Phylo left the Ghost House
where he lived,
and ventured out on the sidewalk
despite the threatening lightning
in the sky.

Something caught Phylo's eyes,
and what it was turned out to
be an insect struggling
in a puddle.

Phylo got down low to the sidewalk
to study the insect,
and see what was going on.
There wasn't much else to do
that day, after all.

The poor insect, Coracatus P. Pillar,
had gone out for a swim in the ocean that day,
and found himself lost on the vast sea,
and would have surely drown,
had not the image of a vast
and incomprehensible shape
loomed over him
showing him the way to go
to reach dry land again.

Coracatus was eternally grateful to
his terrifying, yet benevolent savior.

Pathetically,
every time this sort of thing happens,
some fool goes and makes a religion
out of it.