Nobody Knows

Nobody knows why our fate was different

From the fate of our intelligent cousins,

The Neanderthals and Denisovans,

Who left Africa for Europe and Asia

Long before we did, and when we followed,

Lived near enough to us for some interbreeding

Over many millennia before they vanished

From the fossil record. Maybe one of their genes

Made them susceptible to a pathogen

That our genes managed to hold at bay.

Or maybe their language skills were less developed,

The tenses not yet distinguished, and no subjunctive

For handling hypothetical situations

As opposed to those in the here and now,

Making it harder for them to plan a hunt.

No way to talk about what might go wrong,

How to shift, if required, from plan A to plan B.

Or else their temperament was more rational,

Leading them to conclude, when their prayers

In times of famine went unanswered,

That the gods, if they existed, weren’t interested

In the plight of mortals. So they were prone

To succumb more often to loneliness and despair,

While we—preferring daydreams to facts whenever

Facts seemed to work against us—assumed

That the gods would listen if we praised them

Often enough and reminded them of their wish

To be known to favor justice as opposed to whim.

It didn’t take long for us to suppose that in hard times

We were still dear to the gods who mattered,

Though they sometimes relied on agencies

To distribute their gifts that proved understaffed

For reasons not clear to us, so we had to be patient.

It was easy for us, though not for our cousins,

The no-nonsense Neanderthals and Denisovans,

To imagine the messenger sent to relieve us

Caught in a snowstorm and forced to shelter

In a cave for a while. Easy for us to picture her

Warming her icy wings by a fire of twigs

While singing a hymn to keep up her spirits.

If she could suffer like this for us, we agreed,

The least we could do was to give her time.