Ancient Wisdom

Ancient Wisdom

 

Just another evening under the spangled sky,  

you might scan through the black with a telescope,  

looking for your own private asteroid to name,  

or to catch the drift of a lost comet.

 

But who could have guessed that the stars,   

those holes punched in the canopy of night,  

were just a bunch of cosmic kidney beans,  

bladder busters on a grand scale?

 

That's right, the same twinklers guiding sailors,  

acting as God's salt on the black tablecloth of heaven,  

are apparently registered nurses walking the night shift,  

hovering bedside to lay their cool hands on our fevered brows.

 

And let's not pass over the moon,  

not when it is busy inspiring the seeds buried in soil  

to rise up in green waves, or turning the ocean tide  

on its heel, or shining down on lovers  

who are hoping the whole thing might last,

 

nor should we ignore our own earthly pair of beans 

tucked away under the ribs  

performing their own watery dance—  

a kind of renal ballet, filtering and cleansing,  

joining the cosmic jig with every glomerular twirl.

 

And so, when you next find yourself  

hiking the porch steps on some crystal-clear night,  

or just pitching trash into the can  

in the alley behind a restaurant,  

take a long look at the celestial event above your head.

 

Consider the medicinal light bathing your skin,  

the cardiological glow entering your bloodstream,  

and how, with every beat of your heart,  

nature is pumping its ancient wisdom deep inside you,  

making sure you’re alive to see another day.