Shelley saw the unmaking of man
in sands stretching as far as eye could see.
He did not look behind to see the sands
of time which have made us who we are.
Long dead poets, buried painters, decayed kings
of sculpture, music, dance and epic
Ozymandias had his day, but it is Homer
to whom we pay homage now.
It is Beethoven whose notes stretch as far
as ear can hear.
Sand buries not these artists,
as was the fate of the king of kings,
but carries them from dune to dune,
pausing now and again to breathe new life into
souls that will receive them.