you see the first word of the day and you think
there’s a poem
you see the rabbit grasp a straw and you think
there’s war
you see melting showers of sun and you think
there’s wisdom
you see flower combing flower and you think
there’s pollen
you see pollen being wise and you think this is
a war poem
Gathering just-a-bit-o moss 
If you aren’t writing war poems, you aren’t paying attention. Might some kind of motto these days.
Love the image of the rabbit eating. Had the chance once of seeing a little bunny outside a window munching away on tender grass shoots. Captivating, but I can imagine the adult working on straw and your leap to war. Ah me, even rabbits.
Apt motto, and yes, that such leaps of imagination are not leaps at all is as sure a license for worry as any.