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. .