(Cueva de las Manos Painting 7’300 BCE, Santa Cruz, Argentina)
Do you remember
when we were talking
The Fall from Grace
the concreteness of Analog
the liminal liquidity of Digital
unencumbered by physics
an entire civilization moving
into the imaginal
As the fire burned
beneath incense and resin
smell of wet stone
acrid paints the tang of sweat
the oxygen rich sweetness
and the funk of loam
our family gathered
arm in arm
breath enfolding breath
And we were still basking
in the afterimage of the Break
The resulting Flash when the One
became The Many under the weight
of language and the utility of opposable
thumbs and I grabbed the bone-pipe
and said ‘I need a little light’
You let go my hand
and reached for a single spark
floating away from everything
and I saw your hand in profile
reaching for Matter
returning to its source?
Yeah, its like that.
