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When Lucy walked the plains of Africa,

when all her kind had learned

to walk with the crowns of their heads

reaching tall to the sky, when they

used tools, first to forage, then to hunt,

when they first began to range out far

from the places where they had first come to be,

I was there, too. I was a little, solemn glint,

the merest of mere specks in the eye

of my most ancient mother.

When Gilgamesh went searching for the plant

that would give him rejuvenation: of body, heart, soul,

that would heal his mortal body

of that nefarious enemy, called Death,

I was there, too, across the far, far Flood

to Uta-napishtim, who validated the quest.

When the ancient Israelites roamed the desert,

when they received ancient law and wisdom,

searching over for the homeland which God

had dictated would then be ever theirs,

I was there, too: to see the worship of the golden calf,

and culling of ancient law and wisdom

(from the mouth of God, on tablets of stone).

I was there, too.

I was there to see a brave man,

having imparted what he knows as the greatest

of teachers of the greats of old,

die because he would not concede

there was any way to live, except

by the moral word of the Law which He (thereafter)

knew as given by God, His Father.

Yes, I was there, too, at the foot

of the Cross on Golgotha.

I was there, too.

And when other ancients discovered

about the world, things not before known,

when they invented new faiths, in time

to reach all across the vastgreat earth

I was there when great cathedrals rose high

over the tops of medieval cities, higher by far

than anything else within their purview.

I was there for wars; holidays; celebrations.

For the birth and death of nations.

I was there for anointings; christenings;

births and burials, and all in between.

I was there, too.

Yes, always. For as long as there has been history,

within the living, breathing heart of our world,

no matter to what small degree,

I was there, too.