From ocean's depths to mountain’s heights,
Ignoble lie stromatolites.
In a silent stony cry,
They in noteless ruins lie.
Evincing such an urban blight,
As compare to ours in height,
As mountains are to sand heaps slight.
If wind blew soundless ere there were ears,
And no eyes yet did blink back tears,
Was grief unknown for all those years?
Do voiceless creatures moan?
In simplest lives are there not fears?
Nor life be all they own?
Stromatolites our mothers dear, our world the one they’ve sown.
Paul C. Maybury Jr.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-for-stromatolites/
