The tired autumn light falls like rust upon your motionless eyes <br />These same eyes that have gathered the sunlight for 250 million years <br />Your history can be measured by the stars <br />Red giants born, burned up and blown into stellar ashes <br />Mountains lifted, worn away to roots and raised again <br />Yet your eyes remained <br /> <br />Moving as the waves do <br />Rushing up the rubble of long ago mountains <br />Not to reshape but to recreate the shape that has existed <br />Since waves found their shore <br /> <br />Blood - pure, cold and blue as the seas of your birth <br />Flows in your eyes so that we can see purity <br /> <br />Time is a stranger that passes by unnoticed <br />It stops, stands silent <br />Meaningless <br /> <br />To your eyes <br /> <br />(Cumberland Island,2003)<br /><br />Joel Doran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/horseshoe-crab/
