The Last Briton

Play Audio

To those who came before

Hunted and gathered, and crossed blasted seas,

Hacked down the forests to kindle the trees.

Survived through the winter,

endured through the freeze,

Cooperated and built bonds with ease.

With fellow people, it’s truly a must—

We traded and sheltered, in closeness and trust.

We huddled together, we snuggled in close,

And through many skies, great families arose.

It’s nature we live in, the balance that binds,

A rhythm of living that governs our kinds.

But the dark side of peaceful ignorance grows—

Calamity strikes, and the survivor knows.

It forges the people who simply endure,

Who keep moving forward, relentless and sure.

Through hunger and hardship, through fire and flood,

Through bloodshed and winter, through fear and through mud.

A babe swaddled tight in the crook of a tree,

While bison are followed, on foot, patiently.

An elder tells stories of why stars burn bright,

As the fire dances softly throughout the night.

“Be quiet now, children—the zealots have come.

They slay those who will not obey, one by one.

They burn those who question, who will not comply—

So keep to the shadows, and do not ask why.”

An axe thrown true can save a whole tribe;

A cunning old leader knows when to bribe.

Hide deep in the forests, or simply slip away,

From murderous spectres who relish the fray.

Am I the last of those who came before?

Are there still those who see?

Do the great forests whisper the truths that they knew?

And if I listen closely, will they speak to me?

A moon spills its silver on seas lapping slow,

While a struggling mother fights hard through the snow.

Her cubs are all hungry; a storm’s closing in,

They cry out in vain through the cold, whistling din.

She’s shattered, exhausted, her strength nearly spent,

Yet still she keeps moving, with one sole intent:

To nurture and cradle, to guard and to teach,

To ready the next ones for all life can reach.

For nature decides, with no mercy or pause,

Who carries life onward, and who meets its cause.

And so they endure, through the dark and the cold—

The old ways remembered, the young taking hold.

R.Morrison 16.09.26