A Letter From the Universe

Dear Humans,

The Sun does not care that you once called it "God"
Nor does it give a whoot that you assumed to be
The center of everything, or that Ptolemy said so.
You revolved around him, regardless.


The stars do not wonder about the noseless stranger
Who measured their flight
So lovingly, nights and nights ago.
And the Earth, itself, does not understand the logic of
"Spheres," or light
As a "centerpiece," like Co-per-ni-cus suggested
Nor does the sky pity your scholar who spent
And entire lifetime
Theorizing perfection with

We ask,

When has life been perfect?
Both the snail and the quasar could whisper
If you cared to hear.

We add,

That the Moon did not smile
When a bearded Italian
Finally looked at it.
And the planets did not stop their dance
For the lost son
Who stumbled upon their rhythm.

In fact,
We would like to add,

That falling apples, polygons, triangles,
Degrees from the horizon, "ether," and force
Mean nothing to us
We are
And the fact that you bother to name
What is
Means nothing to us, either.

So please
We'd like to say,

Do not feel stupid on our account
For mistakes
And grains of truth

We'd like to add,

You are, as well.


The Universe