Journey to the Moon

So long they wandered,

making their way

from savanna to shore,

floodplain to forest –

 

They learned

to burn and slay,

gather and dance,

sing and plant,

harvest and herd.

 

Across windswept fields,

down washed out gullies,

up stony passes –

they made love and war;

told, wove, and remembered;

passed judgment, worshipped,

dreamed, and declaimed meaning.

 

Generations followed generations,

repeated the customs.

Dark nights in tall grasses,

they named and tracked stars,

harnessed heavens.

 

Sunshine and rain,

they stumbled and strode

through copses and rockfalls,

meadows and icefields –

chose good and evil;

found worth.

 

Stalks of rhubarb

nourished and delighted;

the leaves were deadly.

Running water refreshed;

standing, it could sicken.

Ferment worked in bread and wine;

spawned life, bred death.

 

They buried and burned

their dead with flowers,

howled at the abundance of mystery;

fashioned hosts of gods;

from Olduvai to Archangel

marked and shaped, coming and going.

 

Slowly they fathomed the seasons

and settled where seeded;

sang of hopes and fears,

of was and will be.

It came to them late to build cities,

and then to fly to the moon.

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