Mathematical Universe(see Max Tegmark’s “Our Mathematical Universe”)


Whose hand now tracks this journey in its field?
Who placed it in that Universal norm?
Whose pattern makes it swirl and glow and yield?
Whose logic gives it stature in this form?

Its turnings strong and sure; no anxious pause.
Its destination perfect and sublime;
the artist pushed that pencil is first cause
for other worlds envisioned at that time.

Who tracks my body into being mine?
Who gives me voice and life; connections, too?
Directions come from stardust where I shine.
Pitched in black ponds, dust forms a circling brew.

Whose journey sends a chilling down my spine?
Imagined hand thus prompted by what mind?

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2 Comments on ““Patterns””

  1. 1sojournal
    February 22, 2015 at 4:04 am #

    You had to know I’d love the pattern of their orbit. A cosmic mandala of ever unfolding flower petals. Your poem moves through unknown distances, from the Universe to the single individual with a smooth flowing pattern as well. Although I enjoy reading classic forms, I seldom write in them, preferring free verse and breath lines, as well as syllabic forms. Thank you again, for visiting,


    Liked by 1 person

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