In the Beginning

I. Across the Disorder

The old women came first shimmering across the border You could see them a mile away dreaming through the desert glaze silver scarves straying behind them like doubts as they streamed to the rescue

Arriving in waves of faded caravans pecking our dusty cheeks with light kisses gathering us to shelter in silky soft arms wrinkling their noses to say we can do better than this

— As if we were all their children.

II. Found in Space

Was that when we arrived?

Who knows? I have no idea what direction we were heading and the timeline is fuzzy

All I remember is this wellspring morning erupting into laughter cascading through labyrinthine times un-scrolling upon the feet of dancers to say now we all get carried away

— As if we all felt at home.

III. Stepping Out

Was that when a door opened?

I don’t recall the step by step disorder we followed back then

Whenever, half-full of fragility we bound ourselves up in bright defiance put on an honest disguise and stepped over the line

One by one unchained by the other as if to say will you come out and stray?

— As if we all freed ourselves.

IV. Holding On

Was that when it got ugly?

Or real?

This part of the story has always been unclear to me even upon reflection I was too busy looking away

Everyone was distracted mainlining misery heads cupped in hands no hope of a homecoming a return to civility where someone would say I can hold you

— As if we had found human kind.

V. The Harsh Sentence

Was that when words failed?

I couldn’t say

They had served us so long narrating blind alleys scrolling past ragged encampments losing the plot to storm the walls where the statues of tyrants lined up on our ruins

And then — this surprise ending tall stories collapsing into a rubble of questions to say nothing’s written in stone

— As if we understood our meaning.

VI. When We Returned

Was that when we went wild?

I don’t recall, it’s a long time ago

We were tame back then and vicious

Still, something waited at the unpaved edges of the dire prescriptions for our future

As we congregated like crows to hear the harsh calls

And we swam upstream to spawn our small hopes

Until the coywolves called us into council howling are you ready to evolve?

— As if we all love creation.