The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [279]
Would not leave the Mother, this time, to mourn.
Each kind would live near the place of its birth,
And share the expanse of the Great Mother Earth.
Close to Her they would stay. They could not run away.
They all were her children, they filled Her with pride,
But they used up the life force She carried inside.
She had enough left for a last innovation,
A child who’d remember Who made the creation.
A child who’d respect. And learn to protect.
First Woman was born full grown and alive,
And given the Gifts she would need to survive.
Life was the First Gift, and like Mother Earth,
She woke to herself knowing life had great worth.
First Woman defined. The first of her kind.
Next was the Gift of Perception, of learning,
The desire to know, the Gift of Discerning.
First Woman was given the knowledge within,
That would help her to live, and pass on to her kin.
First Woman would know, How to learn, how to grow.
Her life force near gone, the Mother was spent,
To pass on Life’s Spirit had been Her intent.
She caused all of Her children to create life anew,
And Woman was blessed to bring forth life, too.
But Woman was lonely. She was the only.
The Mother remembered Her own loneliness,
The love of Her friend and his hovering caress.
With the last spark remaining, Her labor began,
To share life with Woman, She created First Man.
Again She was giving. One more was living.
To Woman and Man the Mother gave birth,
And then for their home, She gave them the Earth,
The water, the land, and all Her creation.
To use them with care was their obligation.
It was their home to use, But not to abuse.
For the Children of Earth the Mother provided,
The Gifts to survive, and then She decided
To give them the Gift of Pleasure and sharing,
That honors the Mother with the joy of their pairing.
The Gifts are well earned, When honor’s returned.
The Mother was pleased with the pair She created,
She taught them to love and to care when they mated.
She made them desire to join with each other,
The Gift of their Pleasures came from the Mother.
Before She was through, Her children loved too.
Earth’s Children were blessed. The Mother could rest.
The silence was profound when they finished. Each person standing there felt the power of the Mother and the Mother’s Song, more than they ever had. They looked at the paintings again and were more conscious of the animals that seemed to be emerging from the cracks and shadows of the cave, as though the Mother was creating them, giving birth to them, bringing them from the Other World, the spirit world, the Mother’s Great Underworld.
Then they heard a sound that sent a chill through them, the mewling of a lion cub. It changed to the sounds a young lion made when it called for its mother, then to the first attempts of a young male lion trying to roar, and finally the huffing and grunting that led up to a fullblown roar of a male lion claiming his own.
“How does she do that?” the Watcher asked. “It sounds like a lion going through stages of growth. How does she know that?”
“She raised a lion, took care of him when he was growing up, and taught him to hunt with her,” Jondalar said, “and roared with him.”
“Did she tell you that?” the Watcher asked, a hint of doubt in her tone.
“Well, yes, sort of. He came back to visit her when I was healing in her valley, but he didn’t like seeing me there, and attacked. Ayla stepped in front of me and he twisted himself around and stopped cold. Then she rolled around on the ground and hugged him, and got on his back and rode him, like she does Whinney. Except I don’t think he would go where she wanted, only where he wanted to take her. He did bring her back, though. Then, after I asked her, she told me,” Jondalar said.
His story was straightforward enough to be convincing. The Watcher just shook her head. “I think we should all light new torches,” she said. “There should be at least one left for each of us, and I have some lamps, too.”
“I think we should wait with the torches until we all get