TIME LINES

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A vase of glass,

Urn, crystal clear,

 Gently lowering ragged stones,

Uneven spheres of pebbles,

Gathered on those endless walks,

Along the shores of Grecian isles,

Seaboards of Djerba, Oregon and Maine,

Oval beaches of furtive meres,

Mountain ranges, high and low,

Pyrenees, Alps and Andes,

Strident Rockies, rounded Puy’s.

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A geoid’s fool I am,

Not knowing of the timeless aeons,

Ages without years and hours,

 Of Neolithic times, the Pleistocene,

Not even sure if they compare,

Their rocky time line now messed up,

Haphazardly arranged for Beauty’s sake –

All time on show, locked in its vessel,

Hard frozen like the Moon lakes.

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At first,

Those treasured grits were marked,

Inscribed with Indian black ink –

Dates, places of the finds.

Then this was halted,

To archive here a phony blasphemy,

Infringing on the beautiful sublime,

A joy, eternal as their stony pedigree.

Unravelled here it is, its slow expansion,

As is the faster timeline of my travels,

Randomly immersed in rocky glow.

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Sierksma, Montmorillon 4.10/2021