What We Cannot See or Really Know
“All overgrown with azure moss and flowers . . . ”
Percy Bysshe Shelley
For Jason Chambers
Way deep inside in the protean corpuscular reaches,
invisible to the outer-us, somehow, some entity is in charge, monitoring
infection, ordering T-Cell retaliatory attacks
against whatever globular intruder is oozing for a fight.
An awareness extraordinaire, this whatever it is, catapulting sneezes
to expel trespassing pollen, shaken from trees,
which too have something very similar transpiring beneath their bark beyond their notice:
Cellular division, sexual bloom and reproduction, spores spindling from
green needles bristling in the breeze.
Mysterious invisible over-souls of a sort, under-see-ers.
Yet, our inner gods eventually let us down. The oncologist said,
“Your immune system has failed you – twice now.”
Heart heard and began to run fast at the news.
Cellular Insurrection Afoot, above the fold,
Graphs below of life expectancy looking dire, going down, down,
down back into the dirt we go,
dirt that covers windblown seeds
as clouds shed a few of their aitches and ohs
and oohs and aahs
engendering over and over
what we cannot see
or really know.