What The Heavens Know

 

How often we forget.

While it waits, patient

as dark molasses

for December biscuits

that rise and brown

in hot ovens.

 

That public sky

above our daily tasks,

watches us spin

and turn in turbulence

as we invent new stories,

new myths to fit our lives.

 

Before molten memory,

gods and goddesses

filled with lust,

stirred the cosmos.

Fought their wars,

birthed other deities.

 

Listen, this firmament

has old, old tales to tell.

How we rose from water;

How elements of stars fell

formed bones, scales, flesh;

How something walked

across this land.

 

In the shadow of deep night

sometimes we pause,

maybe we pray,

maybe we praise.

Maybe we remember

why the sea forever calls us.