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.