They say humans first understood time
through music. I wonder who it was.
Who was the first singer that beat out
time on her knee while kneeling
at the edge of a cliff, harmonizing
with her echo, and received
the enlightenment of rhythm?
And when she came back to the cave
and sang, did they praise her and offer
her the best rabbit their fastest runner
could catch, or did they wait until
they found that when they cooked the meat
until the part of the song that goes,
“I carry water home in my hands
so you too can taste the stream I found,”
then it isn’t bloody and doesn’t burn?
Maybe she kept it to herself and only
sang at the edge of that cliff every
morning before anyone else was awake.
Maybe she died with that song in her heart
and let someone else bring song of time
to all of her kind. Maybe it was another
singer on another hill, who heard her
and, one day, hid his own voice inside
of hers, echoing back to the hilltop.
I'm back to writing a poem every day, whether they stink or not.
Friday, December 16, 2005
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December
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