In the deep fallow recesses
I sift through the cinders and ash
Looking for something to spark
Memory of the blaze that lit the walls,
Flicker and jump the things I thought I saw

That was cold eons ago
Stark as stones, the pit has only
Charcoal to draw erratic lines and
Form an image of those times
A colloquium of fire and light

We were there, you and I,
Young animals running, making
Shapes on blank walls
I suspect we are all
Original members

Scribbling was freedom, a direction
That led from the cave when

Other clans took our Shamans and Icons
And set fire to all the forest.