It’s from before the spin of human fire,
before the dreaming that grew out of itself,
before there were people who ate the brains
of the dead,
before wind was leaving through a hole in the sky,
before zero and powers of ten,
before nets drifting the empty miles of water,
from when moon was the only tyrant that ruled the sea
and was the god shells rose to at night,
the builder of chambers,
the geometry of light, even infinity
is shaped this way
and the curve of sea lives in it,
the unwritten laws of water,
and it still rises
to the surface of darkness,
the country of drifting,
seeking a new kind of light to live inside,
from when we were less savage than now,
when shells were barter for corn
and cloth, and mirrors,
and we built dwellings of stone.
We were strong.
We were full.
Europeans did not powder our bones
and drink them, believing their powers
would grow
and there were no torturers leaving stone prisons
at night to buy bread and sugar
It was before there were bear-slayers
and slayers of women and land
and belief. We knew earth was a turtle
swimming between stars
and everything that was savage in us
fought to the quick
because everything that lived had radiance
like the curve of water and shell
of whatever animal
still inside
that has brought me here.