Under the profound silence of the midnight blue sky
Many unseen lives crawl and gasp their way to the open air
The struggles discounted as part of life by all who pass by
Exist nonetheless in the unseen microcosm held in the care
Of mother earth, she who nurtures all who thus live and die

Extend, magnify and mirror the Darwinian pace to where
The mighty two-legged and superior bend their wills to try
To force the dominion of those that are not the fortunate heirs
Of godlike attributes and can turn a deadened ear to the outcry
Ignoring the mute voices that cry out upon being crushed unaware

It is in the turning of time that lives prosper and others go awry
And the finely woven web of progress waits to ensnare
All the golden gods who only exist for the joy to defy
The rumors of life that abound and rise to them on a prayer
From the dusty sands beneath sandaled feet and which they deny

Yet all that exists is destined to return, whether sumptuous or spare
To the profound silence under the midnight blue sky
Where the godlike and mute will both know and share
The fate that ever rests in the turning of time and all that implies
And mother earth nurtures herself on all their leftover despair

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