Gilgamesh and Enkidu Slaying Humbaba by Wael Tarabieh, 1996.

If the dead skin from our hands are sifted,
will we unearth DNA
that paint Stalin, Castro, Khan, Hiroshima, Rwanda, self-serving climaxes –
how will that scramble and spell unto our traits?
When one man erect shelter and refuge for others,
and another may nod his head and commence war?
When the Epic of Gilgamesh was recited in ancient Mesopotamia,
of the union between God-man and animal,
when Enkidu of the Steppes met King Gilgamesh of Uruk
amidst great Gods and Goddesses, hums of Humbaba, Ninsun, Shamash
men, blood, flesh, veins,
did they tread in burden or contentment
civilizing by prostitute, seeking immortality, summoning the dead,
did they know of destruction and life, holy commons, salvations,
of the endurance of humanity that they may bring?

Underneath neckties, starch-ironed shirts, between radio frequencies,
tucked under hair-gels, gleaming cars, marriages, promotions,
suppression of wildness and wilderness,
antithesizes of city-bred warrior-kings –
can they still reduce us on our knees
to crawl
amidst the beetles, by the ravines, under the stars
symphonies of the good earth –
do they still hold the power to shrink us to empty vessels
when lights are switched off, liberties and skin stripped?

In between pagodas and synagogues, we find Gods and religions,
men balancing on the red string of salvation and despair
our intelligence, hard and unkind.
Lest we ravage, we knead reason and embrace
Lest we face truths, cradling each other to the grave.
In the daily altar, we pray to behave
to set aside traits of abuse, of greed, to shoot, to run,
barricading the poison,
lest the masks come undone.
What did the doctors say of learned behavior –
are we sacrificing for ourselves, or our savior?

Dripping down the walls, blood and yellow ooze
killing fields ring loud, through concentric rings within trees
the pain and hurt echo through time,
barren lands once home for a mother elephant and her family
of memories, hopes, and dreams –
when we scratch our palms on the sands of earth,
what will our DNA say of who we are?
and if we reversed time, that we may resurrect mother elephant,
that we may bring back fallen soldiers, children, rubbles into homes,
will our natural trait dictate an inevitable repeat of decisions?
Will the Gilgameshes and Enkidus among us resurrect?