The Bones of Us

 The elder pauses and sniffs at the wind.
He looks to his feet where the warrior of the mud twists in pain, holding his leg with both hands pressed to his chest.

The elder surveys the blood soaked tundra.
He looks up at the sky and down at the earth. A new thought like a an unfold flower.

He looks again at his fallen compatriot and for the first time is his life he feels his brother’s pain.ding flowers takes root is his brain.

he looks into the faces that are facing him. He sees his tribe, he sees his woman sleeping silently in the corner of his mind’s thatched hut.
he sees his sons that are yet to be born.
he sees himself and he sees us all ass we are. Dirty, naked and and clothed in the stench of our own dung, submitting, surrendering beneath the sun’s eternal glare 

The elder approaches the man and crouches on his haunches to view the blood and the agony of fractured white bone.

He looks up at the sky and down to the earth.

With two arms outreached he brings his tribe closer to thespian.
The fallen man’s comrad gatently into the elder’s eyes.
The moment stops and now there is only the elder, the agonized, fallen huntsman and the And then they are one.
The elder
The fallen man and 
The fallen man’s comrade.
they are as one,

The elder picks up a stone and with his hand he strikes it against another
And thus the spark of wisdom is born.
The spark lights the kindling the others have gathered and soon a fire emerges like a newly born child.
The tribesmen nurture the child with the pieces of wood they had gathered and soon there is a blue.


Some gather the flesh they have slaughtered ands thrust the bleeding flesh into the fire 
The smell of cooked meat fills the air.

They are preparing their meal while the fallen ape, now a man swallows his pain and comforts himself under the steady gaze of his comrades.

With t are all bonded together like sticks of wood.
We are one bundle of wood.he stick in his hand he scratches the shape of his thoughts in the dust between his feet. He meets the eyes of his tribe and motions them all to crouch down.

We are all staying in place.
“We are all one bundle of wood.
Made strong by our alignment.


And thus civilization is born. .The elder pauses and sniffs at the wind.
He looks to his feet where the warrior of the mud twists in pain, holding his leg with both hands pressed to his chest.

The elder surveys the blood soaked tundra.
He looks up at the sky and down at the earth. A new thought like a an unfold flower.

He looks again at his fallen compatriot and for the first time is his life he feels his brother’s pain.ding flowers takes root is his brain.

he looks into the faces that are facing him. He sees his tribe, he sees his woman sleeping silently in the corner of his mind’s thatched hut.
he sees his sons that are yet to be born.
he sees himself and he sees us all ass we are. Dirty, naked and and clothed in the stench of our own dung, submitting, surrendering beneath the sun’s eternal glare 

The elder approaches the man and crouches on his haunches to view the blood and the agony of fractured white bone.

He looks up at the sky and down to the earth.

With two arms outreached he brings his tribe closer to thespian.
The fallen man’s comrad gatently into the elder’s eyes.
The moment stops and now there is only the elder, the agonized, fallen huntsman and the And then they are one.
The elder
The fallen man and 
The fallen man’s comrade.
they are as one,

The elder picks up a stone and with his hand he strikes it against another
And thus the spark of wisdom is born.
The spark lights the kindling the others have gathered and soon a fire emerges like a newly born child.
The tribesmen nurture the child with the pieces of wood they had gathered and soon there is a blue.


Some gather the flesh they have slaughtered ands thrust the bleeding flesh into the fire 
The smell of cooked meat fills the air.

They are preparing their meal while the fallen ape, now a man swallows his pain and comforts himself under the steady gaze of his comrades.

With t are all bonded together like sticks of wood.
We are one bundle of wood.he stick in his hand he scratches the shape of his thoughts in the dust between his feet. He meets the eyes of his tribe and motions them all to crouch down.

We are all staying in place.
“We are all one bundle of wood.
Made strong by our alignment.


And thus civilization is born. .

The old man stops and smells the air. He sees the warrior in the mud twisting in pain, holding his leg tightly. The old man looks over the blood-covered land. He looks up at the sky and then down at the ground. A new thought blooms like a flower. He looks again at his injured friend and for the first time feels his pain. He looks at the faces around him. He sees his tribe, his woman sleeping quietly in his mind's hut. He sees his unborn sons. He sees himself and all of us as we are. Dirty, naked, and covered in our own filth, surrendering under the sun's constant heat. The old man goes to the injured man and crouches to see the blood and broken bone. He looks up at the sky and down to the ground. With open arms, he brings his tribe closer to the injured man. The moment freezes, and now there is only the old man, the injured hunter, and his friend. And then they become one. The old man The injured man and His friend. They are united, The old man picks up a stone and strikes it against another. This creates the spark of wisdom. The spark lights the wood they gathered, and soon a fire is born like a new child. The tribesmen feed the fire with wood, and soon it burns brightly. Some bring the meat they hunted and put it into the fire. The smell of cooked meat fills the air. They prepare their meal while the injured ape, now a man, endures his pain and finds comfort in his friends' steady gaze. With a stick, he draws his thoughts in the dirt. He looks at his tribe and signals them to crouch down. We all stay in place. “We are all one bundle of wood. Made strong by our unity. And thus civilization begins.