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Evolution

by Maggie Butt

First, in the evening cave
I dip my finger in  ground-up
rocks and pastes
to make a bison flee
across the wall

First, I fashion endless prototypes
with blowing holes here
and finger holes there
until I find the shape
which holds the music

First, I send the darkness
scurrying away, tripping over fear
as my words circle and give chase
peopling the nothingness

First, I recognise
the signature of a designer
on the dawn sky
the frosted leaf
and my creative mind

Later, I’ll build a house
stop following the restless herds
settle down and tame the earth
into neat  furrows

Later, I’ll have so many stories
or so weak a memory
that I’ll make marks on clay,
papyrus, paper, to remind myself

Later, I’ll need to travel
faster than the speed of sound
send pictures ricocheting
round the globe and into space

Later, I’ll devise guns
blunderbusses cannons
rifles grenades land-mines
bombs that fly by night

Later, I’ll make up rules
about the designer
and wage war on the people
who invent different rules

Tonight though, welcome to my cave
sing and dance, make music
paint ancestral spirits, towering, white
keep watch with stories
till dreams overtake us.

Tomorrow will be busy.

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