Cave God
#8 of Poetry
This poem appears in the second [adjective][species] poetry collection, curated by FA: poetigress - do take time to read the rest!
When I was little, I was fascinated by a picture in one of my books on prehistoric life that represented early humans worshipping a bear skull god. Later, Neil Gaiman's description of an ancient ritual in American Gods had a deep effect on me. Hence, this.
As you made fire,
so you made me.
From the skull of a bear you killed
not because she was attacking
or had attacked before
but because she might attack
From the skin of a sleeping lion
you tracked and speared and thanked
From these things, you made a god.
From nothing, you made the idea of god.
You named me as you name your children.
In me you pour your prayers
your fears
as you store meat in your clay pots.
I am your bear-lion-god.
I am dead things. Empty space. And power.
What do we make next?