Imagine the magic of feet.
Musty from trudging, sweaty from pounding up and down the hardwood.
Bearing obese weight accumulated from generations of gastric evolution.
Having transported hunter-gatherers and migraters from Africa to Asia to America.
Covered with waterproof gift-wrap, continually growing, thicker, callused, blistered.
Squeezed and crushed and hammered into leather, rubber, and plastic.
The bacteria, floating on dust, wafting in the sun on air currents looking for landfall
And finding it at last on, of all things, an extremity or two, moist and warm, between toes.
A foot having just spent the day on a roof, or in a garden, or in a boot on Afghan plains.
What a feast for microbes, fresh meat ready for spoiling, ready for telltale odor.
Announcing its presence, in locker room or barracks, but wait, what lies beneath the slime?
What mystic soul maps lie ready for the magician, the mystic, and the charlatan?
Each five-toed symposium of health awaits the supernatural touch of the healer.
It reluctantly gives up its secrets, drawn from it by probing fingers, pressing deeper.
Resistance, a knot, a blockage of energy, a flagrant sin in god’s creation?
Then the healing touch of pressure, and more pressure, squashing unknown ills and toxins, clearing invisible clogged channels of energy.
Squeezing poison through cell walls, into venules and lymph channels, into veins, and into oblivion.
The energy detour is down, the road repaired, energy flows through nonexistent pathways
To a waiting organ in need of magic healing, suffering unattended until the magician’s touch did its magic in a distant extremity.
Oh, great placebo god, do your magic again. Heal your sheep waiting so patiently in the barren field. Touch them with knowing fingers, press deeply, search for invisible energy dams blocking divine perfection. Discover what never was there, discover the undiscoverable, uncover those things never covered, make perfect what already is.
The map was plainly there under the dirty sock, in the worn boot, hot, wet, tired, rotten, ready for shower, ready to heal, claiming to heal all humanity.
Another of god’s wonders, a miracle under foot. Magic over nature.



About cgosling

I am a retired medical/scientific illustrator and creator medical patient teaching simulators, who in retirement has given up illustration to write about science, superstition, and secular humanism. I consider myself all of the following: atheist, agnostic, secular humanist, freethinker, skeptic, and nature lover. I have several published books but the mass of my writing is unpublished. I write children's fiction, poetry, essays, and several plays and radio theater shows, that are available as free downloads to be used on secular podcasts and meetings. They can be heard on Indy Freethought Radio or on YouTube “secularradiotheater”. I hope some of my writings will be of interest to like minded freethinkers who I cordially invite to respond. I am also a Darwin impersonator. I invite you readers to listen to and use my Darwin script for secular purposes. Born and raised and schooled at McBurney Prep and Hunter ?College in Bronx, NYC. Graduate School, Medical Illustration, University of Illinois in Chicago. Employment at Indiana University School of Medicine from 1965 to 2001. At retirement I began writing poetry, short stories, essays, and fiction. I have been very active in my professional organizations, the Association of Medical Illustrators and also active in the Center For Inquiry, a secular/free thought organization. I also was an active contractor designer of exhibits and educational projects for the Indianapolis Zoo. Interests are in anthropology, evolution, all natural science.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s