Windows to the Soul

Old age —
The sunken eyes, the knotted brow,
A bony body chained in a cage
Limps about like a withered sow.

You have seen the years fly away,
And friends and lovers no longer attend,
But memories, they abound and stay.
Your reckoning? Not a merry end.

Youth’s beauty has long since gone,
Yet your eyes, they still dance to song!
So a furtive sparkle still appears
In this ancient face despite the years.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

My Story

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The First Eye

Light from the sun created the first eye.
Millions, perhaps billions, of years ago,
A creature evolved a light sensitive set of cells,
And so emerged from sightlessness.

This creature had an advantage over its blind competitors,
Which led to the breeding of offspring with the same mutation.
So it was the lit world became visible.
Let there be light also meant seeing the light,
Not just groping in the dark.

So, now, millions, perhaps billions, of years later,
Many creatures are endowed with highly evolved eyes —
Eyes that, furthermore, can see deep into the universe with telescopes
Or deep into the once invisible, microscopic world with microscopes.

Our vision has become transcendent over time,
One of the great achievements of the species on Earth,
Having evolved from a brutish, dark world
Where there was light, but no sight.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

My Story

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.

If you enjoyed the post, you can help me keeping blogging along with just a one dollar contribution. You can contribute more by increasing the quantity — each increase by 1 is an additional dollar. Thanks for your support in this blog-eat-blog world.

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