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.
Anyone who can write a poem about stromatolites has my vote! great job
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well said.Now let's leave this world of social anthropology, and go back to scientific anthropology.I am more concerned about the mind-rot passing for education currently than I am in prokaryotic, (or the endosymbiosis therefrom) , of the Cambrian epoch.