The Eyes That Saw The Future And Preserved It In The Past
He had known of its beauty
by Not Long Left
long before the fishes
and the birds
and the plants
came and carressed its bold banks.
He had seen the sunlight sparkle
upon the clear unrushed stream
centuries before the moutains
cried and shed their tears down
onto the green.
He had dreamed of this.
Collected the fragments
and preserved them in his poems.
Even now as the river slowly chokes
and suffocates on mans lust for waste.
He sees the beauty that once was.
Its image reflects in his white eyes
and dances and flows upon the page.