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In the cradle of humankind
Geological time locates us
at the crossroads of hominids and democracy,
wiser or younger or older or more harmonized
than the non-miraculous nations of the world.

We used to be teeth like grubby stones
packed solid in warm earth.
Our teeth were enough to tell
the fossilised story of our lives.

Something unearthed us,
broke us open, flung us out
into the big black nowhere of the universe.

Something rearranged the coal dust of our souls
so that we could have the momentary radiance of flowers,
and become rubies more precious than blood.