Handprints on the Cavern Wall
It was never easy
without language, though we did make signs
To carve or paint on
to the walls of caves. We searched
With little torches,
and we followed ancient lines
Created long before
our ancestors—perched
At the very edge of
time—to find the rooms
That echoed with our
songs, and where we danced
Between the darkness
within and without, with booms
Of our feet and hands,
and the light that was enhanced
By our communal
dreams. You ask for words,
And we had them in a
way: they were for children,
When mothers had to
put their infant down,
It was those sounds in
place of soothing hands
That gave them
comfort, both of them, as when
She answered cry for
cry, coo and cooing. Hands
Too we outlined on the
wall in place of fright
And in the animals we
saw our light.