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I worship all ancestors:
Rock, soil, and mist of waterfall
The spiny ploughshares beaten
With volcanic mettle
Baked or frozen on subterranean hearth
Ancestral waves ever crashing
Against the ends of earth, and time
Salt sprite of sea, wood nymph of tree
Watched as we conquered the ancient shoreline
Our numbers spiraling like fungi
Over valley, plain, and mountain peak
Shared hunts, meals, blood and seed;
A big bang of fleshly concupiscence
And having once stood up
Out of the primordial soup pot
Never to appear on life's menu again.
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