We were dark skinned.
We knew yams and hunting
the Savannah and fear of lions-
and in the dark, demons.
We loved the nurturing green fields
and protruding body parts,
Let me mention only eyes and needy lips.
That is how we began with a song like
a sad howl and weapons from wood.
Sunk in deep meditation I revive our
archetypes. They dance and sing the joy
of being and I catch a hazy glimpse of
Mitochondria Eve her brown eyes dancing.
Out of Africa we moved under the
brilliant immensity of solemnly mute
and eternally cryptic skies.
We raised our head for single singeing kiss
and in just a geological second we are gone.