What must have happened to that ancestor, under a tree, on a rainy day

To make this brain feel the way it does

No sunlight to see, no insect sound amid thunderstorms,

Even wolves are looking for a roof

Muddy, wet, and gloomy to say the least

She looks at her comrade shivering under a nearby tree

Not knowing how to express comfort without any physical touch

For she can neither speak nor signal

And yet this primate conjures the courage to look up through the branches

Painting a mental picture of what angry sky gods look like

I wonder what else must have happened to this ancestor

To make this brain feel the way it does

On a rainy day, under a tree