Creative Pedestrians

Together they walked out of AfricaIn a world without end.And in time as they walked and talkedThey scattered names like seedsTo mark and sustain their world –With words they formed another worldConsigning their dead to memory –A joy and a burden still.The world turned slowly for theTribes who walked to survive,And in a world replete with savage lifeWe can guess they did notWorship a god who gave themDominion over every living thing.We do not know their namesOr the shape of the words they spoke,But we do know they becameMen and women who wandered the earth -Telling stories.

And the stories have taken rootIn strange soil –They grow and flower still,But many poison the earth.