The Winged Eye turns

  Upon forests of ferns

  And sees

  An organized balance.

  He sees the complexity

  Within the simplicity

  And links

  Which encircle it all.

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  The Winged Eye gazed

  Upon a bright, raging blaze

  And beheld

  Its primal beauty

  He recognized necessity

  In its bright, flaming devilry

  And the beginnings

  Which destruction ushers.

  The Winged Eye observed

  An unborn embryo curved

  And marvelled

  As he foresaw potential

  But he watched the good nurse

  Make an expression so terse

  And ended

  A life unborn.

  The Winged Eye soared

  Through mazes of cord

  And peered

  At the blinded race.

  He saw avarice and greed

  Beneath smiles of glee

  And wept

  When they polluted

  Ruined

  Killed.

  The Winged Eye returns

  To the forest of ferns

  But sees

  A forest of concrete.

  He finds one perspective

  In humanity's great collective

  And their eyes

  Forever fixed

  In One Single Perspective.