Amber

No one can change me;
I change with the leaves.
No eye can hold me;
I shift with the shade.
The sky is my mirror,
and so I am blue.
I have no reflection,
no colour that’s true.

When the sun stops and stares,
golden-haired upon the stone,
I am transparent,
transcendent, unknown.
When the crowd presses in,
voices drone and pulses pound,
my hands have no feeling;
my words have no sound.

No one can find me;
I was lost long ago.
No form can sustain me;
I am scattered like sand.
Brittle shapes in the air,
what are they? Thin veneer.
And what hides underneath—
it is only too clear.
So the ship is adrift;
all is still on the sea.
In the eye of the storm
all the answers agree.

All the wheels—
clicking gears ticking time din my ears.
I’m standing outside,
untouched by the years.
Dust to dust, to and fro,
so the pendulum swings,
but frozen in amber
I know not of these things.