THE FIRE WITHIN
Taking the proffered ancient torch in hand
In Altamira, Santander and Lascaux
I am the fire, the flickering, burning brand
That leads the artists' hungering below.
Where forms of deer and bison billow in the dark
Etched in charcoal and berry-juice on the wall
The hunter like the artist pursues the mark
I rekindle to light this stone age carnival.
The dance of life cavorts to escape the savage crimson dart
Neighing snorting figures heart beating in the clay
For survival, skill and conquest, that is the caveman's art
And I the flame they carry within lighting the way.
Henceforth I become beacon of humanity,
Shining through memory and imagination
The light of liberty.
Copyright © Julian Lawson | Year Posted 2017
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