'sand crab cosmology'

May 30, 2023

sand crab cosmology

a sand crab’s book of Genesis would read

much like it is told in the Pentateuch tales

- beginning with chaos, and the Word whispering over the waters

then order, separation of land and sea, light and dark

followed by creation of heavenly bodies, night and day, and so on

so it is for the locals of the littoral zone

who live by the rhythm of their beach zodiac

- all is wet and mysterious, but for the whispering Wind

then the water retreats, leaving behind a dry shore

a sandy microcosm with millions of black holes

out come the crabs. In the image of Creatrix Crab they collect

sand planets, balance them between their elevated eyes

roll them boldly (playing a divine game of marbles)

into constellations, galaxies around the holes

spreading out a Weedy Way like we have our Milky Way

for they pay homage to seaweed like mammals do to milk

every now and then they enjoy a moment’s rest

funtime off to celebrate work well done

see how they yawn and stretch out their limbs!

high up on their toes they tilt their nippers

like dancers worshipping the sun

the next chapter begins with travels and expeditions

territorial battles, family planning, spouse stealing, home swapping

much gory tragedy involving an insatiable devil called Gull

and a king tide deluge, their Great Flood, perhaps by Crab’s decree

to send the faithful back to ‘Go!’ and start allover again

let us skip the stories of kings/queens, wars, and prophets

the newer books too, with promises of redemption and peace

even apocryphal disclosures of the rise and role of women

and go straight to the book yet to be written in words of our time

but already printed in blood and ash: the book of Climate Change

an apocalyptic epos of shameful ignorance, pain and doom

imposed on us all, including the sand crabs and their beach

foretold by modern prophets: whistleblowers, scientists, activists

who are ignored, derided, imprisoned, swept aside

even assassinated for not burying their heads in the sand

and if there were an ark or ship or black holed bunker

for the scribes of that current book to survive, may they be

wiser than a sand crab, and of humankind the most kind

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