Telluric Rings

The eye seeks a desert The anchorite sits, pensive Thought encumbered Pillars of cracked rock and The catarrhs of coarse winds The bleached bone offerings Of before And the deeply rumbled promises Of gyre and firmament The eye drowns and Time is nothing No more than the lines etched In the sand of ancient sea beds Where lie old dreams of caverned Maws and light in gulfing void No more than the enervating Waters which hold the murmured Whisper of desolation Of a great eye that has never blinked No more than cities In the dust of time Thresholds carved in cliffs And somber faces etched in stone