Primitive Heart

By

Autumn Laird

primitive heart

beating on the stone

chipping away the rock

to reveal the layers of bone

cave mother cradles

echoes in the valley

the red-tail cries

spear flints littering

animal furs rippling

soft breeze singing

through the trees

suckling babe

on mother's breast

hair sweeping face

soft pounding beat

hammer rhythm

handprints upon stone

wood fires burning

crackling heat

sage drifting

tumbling tumbling 

round like the sun

wheeling in the sky

turning hawk dancing

on the wind 

we fly

leather threads

tethering our ancient souls

to the primitive home

feathers floating

drifting in the air

silent decent

from thunderbird's tail

whispers hushing

holding the babe near

rocking the tiny figure

of future years

horn carving

the picture drawing

offering a prayer

to the eternal One

with the scrape 

marking passages

mystery race

returns through the artist

in a primitive heart

runs the blood

of the Great Mother

singing a song 

to the little one

plays the hand

across a rock wall

time layers

banding together

washed by the drumming

rain pounding

wearing away the lines

carving mountains

of wind and stone

herds marching

across the great expanse

under the sun

baking the land

hardening the sand

compacting and preserving

the hand

upon the rock wall

fragile life

lives on

from a time

rose in the dawn

of earthen symbiosis

knowledge sprung

from the natural chart

of daylight and night

around the moon

silver light

filtering in the caverns

casting shadows

by the ceremonial fires

around the sun

golden light

warming the earth

feeding the plants

with the energy

of universal circles

spiraled from the stars 

pluck rays shining down

beating the pulse

observe the cycles

and know life

within 

works and rests

according to nature's time

and the beat continues

inside the mother's heart

sacred space 

marked upon the wall

the path walked

from beginnings

where the wind blows

in all four directions

taken like colors 

upon the stone layers

in time we separate

all were once part

of greater sculptures

made in eons

from ancient feet

retracing the steps

to chart

a destiny

of a simple man

whose life came

from the woman

and returns again

in a wheel

made by the sun

and the moon

life

like the hawk's cry

dances upon the wind

beautiful though it is

depends on flight

and the kill

mastery within

to achieve harmony

of the balance

that has been given

written upon the cliffs

is a story

that will last

as long as the mountain

like the beating heart

we are gone

understanding the message

is to walk a primitive road

back through your time

into ours

see that we are the same

only actions remain

frozen upon the wall

fingerprints of soul

who we once were

for all to know

though we are a mystery

as each is to themselves

life is the mystery

in the maze

of the Mother's womb

cherish the simple gifts

sometimes there is famine

war & death

though sometimes

there is peace

joy & birth

written like letters

upon the sand

blown by the wind

and washed by the water

heated in the sun

preserved in memory

that is the dawn

of all beginnings

as we were all once

young

and speak again

from a primitive heart

watching the patterns

 emerging first

every baby knows

survival

becomes dependant

on the milk

flowing from the breast

of the rocking mother

singing us stories

of the ancestors

remembered

with the honor

they deserve

sprung from memory

like hands on the wall

recognizing simple truths

floating feathers

strung into memory

recall the voices

echoing in the cave

and be at One

with the eternal breath

we breath

like the song

from the lips

whispering

in sacred spaces

found

again in primal knowledge

we live on

in the story

of the fire.