The Ngorongoro Conservation Area lives up to notions of pre-historicity, like the ancient hominin footprints preserved in volcanic ash at Laetoli, 45 Km south of Olduvai gorge. I remember the drive through the area, the feelings that wash over as you see a volcanic caldera for the first time, drive for miles where all around is grass and acacia, the animals not always large as the big five, the spiritual experience if one may call it that, not always as small as the big five 🙂
This poem is for the ancients, for humankind inscribed in footprints …
It was the fever of knowing the fire of volcanoes /as they inlaid a walk / through the dregs of ash that someday, theirs would be ancient hearts of prints /caressing rituals of love in a molten gorge of feeling ... What story then, do the grains of sand sing / with each sinking step washed away in salty tears to an ocean embrace //
Is this the epoch of restlessness / in the transient tracings of songs coursing through veins / pulsing their way to the expanse of heart / beating rhythm into sand that one would hear /once the ocean has its way / as it echoes in whale song / to resonate in the ocean of you //
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