The last caveman
had an inquisitive mind
and became the first Argonaut

from void stone
to sun-blighted plain
the Argonaut molted
from his sedentary form

legs and feet glowed
red with strain and life,
and the first Argonaut
traveled far, far beyond
the reaches of his imagination,
beyond even the spiral of images
and color he dreamt in the pure
black of the cave

his conscious state burned,
his spirit yearning, and
new vistas became his sustenance,
chasing the place where land
falls into sky, where both
are one, folding infinitely
into each other

the first Argonaut crossed
the earth—on foot
and as mariner—
gathering the wisdom
of land and sea
of all Our Mother’s songs,
the names of every wave,
even Time’s last riddle,

and for us, the last
Argonauts, those who tread
the old footpaths of our
common ancestor, with ear
to stone earth we can still
hear his last whispers,
embedded in primordial footprint,
he hums with indescribable beauty
and sadness, the last
of Our Mother’s songs