The World Maker Revisited

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The World Maker Revisited

As footprints in dunes like time,
his legacy eventually
was thought erased by blowing tides
in millennia’s ceaseless march
across the face of histories.
Not to be acknowledged by
this race he bore - his sons we were.
To live and die, this life we wore
like old rags, used, then discarded.
As prancing kings, or scoundrel
vagabonds, we never took stock
of our surroundings or gave thought
to who had built our lush playgrounds.
Until the day a challenge came
from nobler minds to search the past
for where, or by whom, we did spring.
So dig we did, down further down,
past lines in limerock,
through civilizations evaporated,
leaving stone tables,
through ruins inhuman, left by forgotten men
who hunted with flinty spear.
To stop at last, in layered Earth,
a place we knew no human spore
had graced a wooded plain or glade.
A surety, no foot had touched
this pristine ground, unscathed by man.
Yet there - behold, in wind swept sand,
the footprint of the World Maker!

              END
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