SILICA:

I peer at the bejeweled images of a long gone past, now framed,

Into sepia mirror of a well & long lived life, sun dappled & paned,

Egg-timer strands, minute dunes of golden ethereal shifting sands,

Running through my mind & slipping through loose fingered hands.

Sands of ancient time, beaten, furnaced, moulten & by man, blown,

Birthing the looking glass, where my memories are distantly shown,

As I look deeply into man´s stippled, shining, mirrored & crystal glass,

I see shimmering reflections of the ancient aeons of my receding past.

Abandoned & forgotten, the shattered crystals of those silica dreams,

Missing & gritty, grains of those pebbled, lost & unattainable schemes,

All reduced to sandy silica, in pots, beds & distant sandy desert dunes,

Shimmering beneath pearly tidal fingers of fickle minded & silky moons.

Shattered glass morphs into shifting sands & becomes soft Angels dust,

Silica granules, each one returning to its original form of mere sandy fust,

Glass to ashes, ashes to sand, sand to silica & silica goes back to the earth,

Where time´s winds kiss each grain & with their breath start new rebirth.