The earth, it was said, 
Rested upon the back
Of a giant turtle. 

That turtle, in turn, 
Rested upon another,
And another,
And another -
Turtles all the way down.

Others said it rested 
Upon a succession of elephants.
For others, it was 
The shoulders of Atlas
That held it firm. 

But, of course, 
Now we know better. 
It is held by myriad attractions
And by movement.

And my own particular world
Is held by its own attractions,
And repulsions, 
And mutual beliefs and stories. 

We tell ourselves
That there is such a thing
As corporation, or school, or alliance
Or country.
We build walls around that idea -
Actual walls of brick and mortar
Or even steel. 

We think those walls will hold it firm. 
For they rest upon the earth. 
Which rests, of course, 
Upon a giant turtle.

Or is it the shoulders of Atlas
That will keep us from falling forever?
Surely there is some strong man
To whom we turn to make it all secure. 

...
I’m grateful that my kids
Watched Ninja Turtles 
Rather than a Mighty Mouse,
Who comes to save the day.

Turtles, seeking wisdom from a rat
Working as a team, finding allies, 
Without a single hero -
It’s the start of a better story.

Not so much turtles 
All the way down
As turtles all around.
Not perfect, 
But a step into a better myth. 

photo by Wally Gobetz from Flickr per CC 2.0