What We Forgot, by CJ Bowerbird
when we were wedgetail, we were
beak clever and feather proud. we would
comb the contours of convection,
tickle the fickle wind, patient as mountains,
gliding on grace.
we were perspective,
hunting with the sun, picking
twitches and pinning dashes,
tracing the lines of fires,
taking what the earth expelled,
picnicking over a blanket of gum haze
brushing cirrus with our crown.
now we are human.
we don’t need the wind to fly.
now we are human.
we don’t need perspective to see all.
when we were brown snake, we were all
tongue and curls, painting
pictures by taste, hearing the
heartbeat of the earth, the
silent guru on the rock, making
pronouncements with a tap.
we were heat soak, sun dial,
at the end of each day carrying
hydrogen’s wisdom into the ground.
now we are human, straight and loud.
now we are human, we create our own heat.
when we were fox, we were
heartbeats and whiskers, a
red shift arrow across sable,
racing headlights to brush cover
bushy tail taunting another dash done.
we were noisy chased but in the
dark, breath tight, we were
silent stalker, opportune and gamble,
chicken fright and mouse carrier.
unaware we were out of place
curled with our cubs as
daylight brought out the hounds.
now we are human, afraid of nothing
now we are human, ever in place
when we were bogong moth, we
carried the somnolent powder of
winter on our bodies and the
moon on our wings. we lived in
squats, congregated in cathedral eaves and
stencilled the walls of caves, clutched quivering together.
we were gate crashers, couch surfers and
story tellers, prophets and revelators,
revealing the tale of time, making circles in the night air.
now we are human, beyond time.
now we are human, we do not care
what we forgot.