"what they will have taken so long to realize was that the crash itself
harkened the end of an aeon and the beginning of a new.  what they will
barely have been around to see the genesis of would be the slow simmering
of the darkened spot; etched in the roiling iron sanguine swhorls; the
deepening and the turning of the blackened spot.  as if an absent leaf
had fallen into its shadow and begun to consume itself: the black gave
way to a forest green, and in the heart a glowing jade phosphorescence.
within ten million years the unutterably complex microbes will have
formed themselves into co-independent constellations.  within ten-span
that time, the fruits of that gathering will have extended symbolic
pseudopodia, as countless will have done before; and the tendrilled
intentions of these essential and distilled beings will have swept their
mourning gaze over ancient and speckled ruins, dust and girders.

they will have scouted, they will have surveyed, and they will have moved
on by way of a re-insemination of this vessel, and the former globe will
have become a petri dish once again.  the eye itself, now glowing a
verdant amber swirled with bluish jade, will have gazed on through the
night.  they will have made their way, then, outwards.  in a tremendous
leap, not of faith, but of desperation.

they will have erected no monuments; only the silence stays."

"To have gathered from the air a live tradition
 or from a fine old eye the unconquered flame
 This is not vanity."

- ezra pound