One is the instant,
part and parcel of the original.
Look, your open hand
contains all; close it,
and find infinity. God created
the natural numbers, patterns
within patterns within patterns,
shaping order. Look closely
and see wheels spinning
in sequence, drafting through
each other’s space and wind,
star matter, numbers
inside numbers, within others.
Two is the breathing, the in
and out, the pulsing, our tides
responding, a kiss, the moon’s demise
and rebirth. What rings truer
than not knowing? The cycle of
sunrise, noon and sunset gives us
Three, ever continuing, for who
defines beginnings? But what
of tomorrow? I have heard your
reply though no words were voiced,
following, as always, no matter the
result, the end. We are the
seasons. The continuum. The natural.
This is in response to a challenge issued by my friend Ron Evans, who asked me to produce a poem using three paragraphs from Dan Rockmore’s Stalking the Riemann Hypothesis: The Quest to Find the Hidden Law of Prime Natural Numbers. A few of the phrases were lifted verbatim from the selected paragraphs. This is just a draft, and the finished product may be quite different, but hey, it’s a beginning.