Writing
On Footprints and Space Shuttles
by MLD on May.23, 2010, under Performance/Art, Space Policy, Writing
Been gone for months – trying to get life settled. Almost there. And back.
I found a muse for writing – in an unlikely place, in an unlikely source – but I don’t question these things. Unlike my music & dance muse (more on that in another blog) this is a real, living, breathing person of my acquaintance. It makes things a little confusing sometimes – the “external” real person and the “internal” transformed one are not the same – but that just adds to the fun.
I’d promised when I started this blog that I would occasionally use it to post creative writing. Here’s one – not a new one but revisited and rewritten this morning, as I was listening to air-to-ground transmissions between Mission Control in Houston and Space Shuttle Atlantis. I was on headphones, listening to the exchange between flight controllers and crew, while revisiting the discovery of modern human footprints dating back 117,000 years. The journey between that time and this – between ancient footsteps and human space exploration – were bridged across time and space, for just a moment.
Here is what the muse brought.
“All the Signs Were There”
Walking on the beach,
sinking her feet into rain-soaked sand,
she moved toward the sea.
Aware of all surrounding her,
the smell of the storm receding,
leading her to follow.
Others remained behind,
nurturing the tribe,
releasing her to Lorelei.
Her lineage established,
beyond her ken.
Children she would never know.
In the bones of her face,
tomorrow lingered – as fingers played;
extravagant, extraordinary dexterity.
Inquisitive eyes.
What did she see?
What could she imagine?
One hundred thousand years ago,
she trailed the storm.
the sky clearing behind her.
Humanity before her,
traversing time,
she stood at the shore of her descendants.
Emerging intelligence which would, in time,
yield wit and wisdom, and power enough,
to lift sons and daughters to flight.
All the signs were there
of star-flung choreography,
dancing down the ancient dune.
As – mother of humanity -
uplifted by her journey,
she curled her toes into the sand.
– M. L. Dittmar
