“Far from a distant island in a distant sea is found the birthplace of man.
The birthplace of man is written for all to see,
is there for all to know,
is hidden by the ignorance of man.
where man had trod for centuries,
declares afresh his birthplace,
guesses at his birthday.
Man stumbles over speech,
stumbles over tools,
stumbles over his physique.
Man stumbles over diet,
wonders at the drawings,
expresses his surprise at the power to reason.
Man was never a footsore being,
was never a grunter on the ground,
was never a swinger in the trees.
Man is not a cousin of a beetling brow,
is not a derelict of neglect,
is not an accident that happened.
Man is of supreme intelligence,
has mastered his domain,
has heightened appreciation of his body,
his self with spirit and with soul.
The intellect of man has risen to occasion,
has risen to the music,
has risen to the word.
The intellect of man has served him well,
has served him poorly,
has led him to the heights of attainment,
has led him to a lack of faith.
For the intellect of man has blinded him to the wonder of surroundings,
the wonder of his own existence,
the wonder of the planning for his onward journey.
The onward journey of man is the reason for his own existence,
with maturity of his mental processes,
with conceptual capabilities bestowed and well endowed.
The onward journey of man needs purity of thought,
purity of action,
purity of intent,
for proof of his signing of maturity,
for where he is planned to go,
for where he must shed his trappings of mortality,
for where he must travel light,
for where he must travel quickly,
for where he must travel without a backward glance which would cause his head to turn.
There he was,
expected to have equipped himself,
to have discarded all the dross,
to have acquired the gifts he needs for the pathway of exaltation -
that which commences at the birthing of the grave.”