Max The Girl

Because We Are by Rosalind Brackenbury

I am because we are, the five-toed,
the elegant-fingered, the ones
whose brains flower like coral
whose dreams span earth and move out-
I am because we animals
love to rub and huddle, because
our tongues love to lick skin,
nuzzle and enter each other’s 
mouths, clean milky young,
taste sweat from necks and slick
fur flat, lap water from clean pools;
because we love to swim, sleep, eat,
lie in the sun, move to the shade;
and because we are the fish
flying in ballets through the shallows
and deeper, where the ocean floor
hollows and darkness begins;
I am because of centuries of thoughts
and centuries of dream, because of poetry,
grass, music, growing corn,
because of wine from grapes
and bread from flour,
because of a million hands,
because of cave paintings
and the true line drawn,
the bison on the wall,
doe in the clearing, because
of shooting stars and sudden floods,
ships going out, footprints,
because of men and women
coming together, lying down
together, coming, again and again,
because of father, mother, brothers,
lovers, children, everyone making
enough love, because of skins, eyes, hands
and words, because of closeness,
because of breath. Because
of the touch in the night
the surgeon who saved me
because of intelligence
because of care
because of enough people
loving enough people
for those centuries
for ever, I am. We.