“The things by which our emotions can be moved – the shape of a flower or a Grecian urn, the way a baby grows, the way the wind brushes across your face, the way the clouds move, their shapes, the way light dances on the water, or daffodils flutter in the breeze, the way in which the person you love moves their head, the way their hair follows that movement, the curve described by the dying fall of the last chord of a piece of music – all these things can be described by the complex flow of numbers.That’s not a reduction of it, that’s the beauty of it.” – Douglas Adams in Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency
Gentle fractals rise and fall
Capture all that's mystical
Emerges music exquisite
In respect of the master's visit.
Yet what visit? Such paradox -
As master is that subtle fox
Who in infinite momentum
Is dynamic in equilibrium.
Whizzing ceaselessly, yet static,
That blissful resting kinetic
Composed, composing composition
Of his united reflection.
Myriad of changing forms and lines
The distinct furs of sweet felines
Is her in yet another shade,
Connecting life - of what lives are made.
Universal, yet personal;
The triggers soft, affectionate -
That guide tears and happiness
All in cause of her finesse.
Twisting in strands the secret key
Of Individuality
Makes universe most wondrous;
All in virtue of the numerous.
Elusive in duality
Her wave-particle entity
Who prospers in her connection
That weave intimate emotions.
Relations mathematical
Define each of the particles
That ride on joyous harmonics
And delight all with nature's tricks.
So scoff not: "He's no musical!
No member of the cathedral,"
For He the small, yet vast as all
Unites what's truly beautiful.
This poem is dedicated to my mother, for being crazy about the arts, teaching me to be crazy abuot the arts, and for desperately wanting a poem dedicated to her.
Capture all that's mystical
Emerges music exquisite
In respect of the master's visit.
Yet what visit? Such paradox -
As master is that subtle fox
Who in infinite momentum
Is dynamic in equilibrium.
Whizzing ceaselessly, yet static,
That blissful resting kinetic
Composed, composing composition
Of his united reflection.
Myriad of changing forms and lines
The distinct furs of sweet felines
Is her in yet another shade,
Connecting life - of what lives are made.
Universal, yet personal;
The triggers soft, affectionate -
That guide tears and happiness
All in cause of her finesse.
Twisting in strands the secret key
Of Individuality
Makes universe most wondrous;
All in virtue of the numerous.
Elusive in duality
Her wave-particle entity
Who prospers in her connection
That weave intimate emotions.
Relations mathematical
Define each of the particles
That ride on joyous harmonics
And delight all with nature's tricks.
So scoff not: "He's no musical!
No member of the cathedral,"
For He the small, yet vast as all
Unites what's truly beautiful.
This poem is dedicated to my mother, for being crazy about the arts, teaching me to be crazy abuot the arts, and for desperately wanting a poem dedicated to her.
