We were all still lives in a landscape
Carrying on our shoulders the preferences
Of a world in waiting, being born
From our chest emerged
The stub of progress
A leg bone of surviving
Dignity that approached
The macrocosm with underlying
Curiosity, humility, midnight affairs
With far-away stars, we were
The children of death, or so it seemed
Ready to produce, consume, destroy –
Maybe we were not models of being mortal
But elements raged around us
That hit us like glass, bone, metal, flesh
Our families could not abandon matter
We gave line to inheritance, jerking back
From the end-of-life, no matter the obstacles
We were all living in a landscape
Of pyramids of our own species.
Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Riding-Sunrise-401736095
Wuji Seshat 