Prehistorical Art Poem

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.