Were you present at the dawn of Creation?
I’m quite sure I saw you at the shimmering edge
of a pond where the tuberose dipped to admit
something too wet and too young to fly.
Were you present at the rise of thought
when certainty gave way to resistant beetles
with hard-shelled plans and maps they’d
imagined while dreaming of salt flats?
Were you present at the fullness of expression
when, upright and landlocked, we learned
how to cry and to calculate distance from spirit
to flesh, convincing ourselves we were lost?
Were you present at the evening of tides
when seas recalled their sweet mother, the pond,
and our tears falling salty revived acrid spirits
across the land? I’m quite sure you were.
© Elaine Stirling, 2014
Image from photobucket.com