most of our greatest wise men are unknown

unless on the wide flat boob tube they’re shown

they can’t see through the big media mist

we know because we’re on that lucky list

 

writes a sonnet a day with convictions

of today’s news with ancient solutions

subtly or not included in each

they never know who’ll be the ones that teach

 

only our own values and what we are

can keep us six more feet above their bar

the one we need  is in the air like sage

not seen in our have-everything-now age

 

he or she might be a poor carpenter

or a Prince turned anti-altar granter