Two hundred centuries before we left the cave
The artists made all the live animals run and walk
The beasts were born of charcoal and ocher
They herded our dreams in the dark and in the
Dark they ran forever yet were still, so that
We could see them and watch them and learn
And they would not run away, or leap towards us
We would remember these things.

We left the cave and the artists stopped painting
Sometimes they would journey back to the cave,
Sad, even distraught at the fate of their children
The megaloceros and the auroch and mammoth had not moved
We had moved, we no longer needed to wander with them
We would carry only a dull worship, receding like snow and ice
We asked how it could be that we no longer feared the darkness
And for the first time we made paintings of the Moon and Stars.