A smoke signal,
A message sent,
Blacks, whites, merge to gray
Telling the truth in creative ways
Carved symbols upon wall,
Picture told, a lifetime sprawled
To look back now,
Modernity can’t but stop but be in awe
Of how the primitives taught their laws
Drift like dreams
Pronounced from lips
…And where’ve they gone?
Where I ask?
Have they gone…why are they not with us anymore?