Handprints Poem by Mary Champion

What drove you
deep into the inner darkness,
to the hidden heart of the cave?
What primal force
impelled you to leave your handprints
on the cold stone wall?
Did you wonder at the marvel
of their unique dexterity?
the first hint of your potential divinity?
Outlined in red -
for the blood they would spill?
for the danger they would pose?
for the tender warmth of their healing touch?
Or was it your signature?
a sign that the wild beasts-
exquisitely drawn-
were made by the purposeful hands of Man
and not by our Random Mother - Nature.
For while those creatures
fashioned by her blind impulses-
Living and moving and -
and having their place in the sun-
decayed over decades;
Yours - unmoving; unchanging
and shielded from the brutal light of day-
have endured through millennia.