the singularity breaks forth,
blood surging through the branching arteries in the Tree of Life
and the universal heart starts to beat
within the pulse of creation.
a supersensible sensation, an inferred Presence,
a noumenal world of Forms penetrating a fertile phenomenon.
You are a series of Nabokovian puzzles to solve;
a reified Image projected on a cosmic canvas filling us with empty spaces full of potential.
fractals whirl in Golden Ratios in a strange crossroads where zero and infinity meet.
Nature imitates the Sublime, colors them in epiphanies and theodicies,
as gardens blossom in their nascency,
only to wither from the snarly-tongued serpents of our ignorance,
balanced in chiaroscuro moments of passion and angst.
but we still grope in the dark in hopes to find even a hint of illumination,
a distant star structured within a constellation;
traveling on a horse we wish to find on our road to Damascus,
only to be struck by the mysterium tremendum,
speaking in parables where the moral of the story is how myth begets reality.
Cognito ergo sum marries Pascal’s reasons of the heart,
involutionary worlds both black and white,
truths sequestered in a grammar rife with imperfect symbols, yet ironically understood.
but is it the teleologist’s dream, or the existentialist’s punchline?
is there a universal verse we all can sing,
or are we stuck humming the tune without knowing the words?
and so the mystery sways back and forth in a frenzied, fiery dance,
round and round the circle goes,
the Earth around the Sun,
the Question around the Answer,
a solace in the warmth of summer days,
a cry in the cold, dark nights of winter.
a soul created within a framework of contradictions that some see as
the beautiful union of opposites,
a work of art with double-meaning,
the grand scheme intuited, sensible only in reverse,
while others blankly staring at the same mystery fear the echoing answer…