To you, Man.
To the day
Your sojourn
From heat and brush
Found fecund crescent
And soil.
To your dogged pursuit,
In dead of winter,
Of meat and succor,
And bone.
To you, Man.
To the day
When your head
Turned upright
And began appraisal
In earnest.
To when your legs
Slaved
And freed your dexterity-
Your able
And working hands.
To you, Man.
To the day
You rendered
The plains beast
And whispered
Life into the still
And dim
Of a cave.
To depiction,
And art.
To you, Man.
To the day
When Nature turned
Her throat to you
In submission.
To your implements
And shafts,
Cutters and
Killers.
To you, Man.
To the day
You woke most Promethean,
And pirated fire,
Stole from the elements
Without ransom.
To your second attempt,
Your brash temptation
Of Zeus' bolts.
Again you stole light
And made no attempt
At mitigation.
To you, Man.
To the day
Your wonder
Exceeded your need,
Begat the metropolis
And smoke.
To your institutions
And monopolies,
Your greed
And bias.
To you, Man.
To the day
You traded war
For affluence,
Fraternity
For dominion.
To your plague
And bitter taste.
And to you, Man.
To today.
And you've a mind
To make up.
Find epiphany,
Wake
Into chivalry
And care-
Sow the seeds of greener leaves?
Or continue in sloth,
Stagnate
And succumb
To waste-
Burn the field for just one ream?
So to you, Man.
O, to you,
Man.