At first glance, they dance before the eye, Floating freely, as though adrift in the sky. Indeed, they seem outside, yet deep within, The vitreous gel is where their tale begins.
Meanwhile, light streams through, casting tiny shades, Though subtle, their presence seldom fades. As time goes on, with aging as the cause, The vitreous shifts, revealing natural flaws.
Consequently, fibers clump and shadows play, Creating patterns that wander and sway. Additionally, injuries may lead to their birth, Or surgeries may disturb vitreous earth.
Moreover, inflammation stirs the scene, As does bleeding, though rarely seen. Regardless, these shapes move as eyes try to trace, Fleeting threads in an ever-changing space.
However, should flashes or shadows arise, Caution demands a visit to wise eyes. For retinal tears or detachment may loom, Urgency required to avoid the doom.
Thus, floaters, though oft benign in design, May signify more than their subtle shine. In the end, they are the reminders we see, Of the mystery and fragility of our anatomy.
So remember, when cobwebs drift in view, Though harmless they seem, vigilance is due. With care and awareness, vision shall last, Transitions of time—each moment unsurpassed.
