When did we decide
We were superior
To all around us?
I recall and study
The days when we were
Nothing and everything
Just landscape and magic,
Dust and Blood.
Grind the bones
Of your forefathers down,
Mix into a paste with
Clay and gravel,
Then make into a vessel,
To serve the bread
The hands of your ancestors
Taught you to bake.
Spin the wool
From your beloved ewes,
With a polished spindle-whorl,
Carved from the vertebrae
Of your great-grandmother,
Whose stiff fingers
Taught your grandmother,
Your mother, and then you.
Memories and lives
All are captured
In the spinning thread;
Weave it into a cloth,
And wear with it with pride.
What you read and feel
Might disgust you -
But think on this,
When you gaze tenderly
At your heirloom ring,
Lock of lover\'s hair,
Or your child\'s first tooth.
We are all bound
By persistence and memory,
Ancient creatures,
Living from sunrise to sunset,
Walking in the footprints
Of many thousands...
No better than beasts
And no worse than Gods.