PALEOLITHIC REMAINS IV. The Dream of Bronze Age Man: |
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I am a son of heaven. Let my dolmen break the horizon with its back of bone, stone shoulders and a door like no other. My body, my bronze, my tribe—written with an axe that mocks the curve of the moon. Night tumbles over herself to sleep in my armor. Night stains me with power and I grow a shell made of metal. I will live yet tomorrow to eat this wealth from the dirt-black hands of my brother. I am a son of heaven. I proclaim it. My Father, my Favor, our will is as one. I will talk in this metal and hammer out your command. Bury me in this endless favor. |
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