They were scattered to the wind,
\ncousins of my sapient ancestors.
\nCould they speak in poetry?
\nFind signs in the heavens?
\nI care for the many that made me.
\nThe joy and misery of my soul
\nis theirs.
\nNeanderthal boys looking on mastodons.
\nSapient boys following them.
\nSweet faces,
\ndrawn from the hard surface of earth.<\/p>\n
Mothers hiding them in the brush.
\nFeeding their children
\nfruit and meat of the seasons.
\nBeget and beget through eons.
\nLink by link, a fragile chain
\nof intelligence and love.
\nThis hand that writes their poem
\nis theirs.
\nThis heart that searches for its place
\nis theirs.
\nThis love that shelters who I love
\nis theirs.<\/p>\n
Neanderthals and me,
\nI have stories to tell
\naround your fire.
\nRedemption and terrible wars.
\nThe sea tide that took your
\ntribe away.
\nExtinguished your hearts and hands.
\nThe dispassion of nature
\nthat bred us both.
\nYour journey up to me
\nwriting down in words
\nwhat makes us both.<\/p>\n
To this unimaginal time,
\nthis epoch foreign to your eyes.
\nYour tens of thousands,
\nwho wander the byways
\nof my mourning.
\nI have a place for you
\ninside me.
\nAt the edge of shores
\nhere, and yet to come,
\nwhere I will whisper
\npoems to you,
\nNeanderthal brothers,
\nsapient family.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They were scattered to the wind, cousins of my sapient ancestors. Could they speak in poetry? Find signs in the heavens? I care for the…<\/p>\n