Embody Beauty

See my corpse coloured
by your light of truth,
covered by mercy
and compassionate grace:
born together in our cosmic womb,
which makes of all light matter,
bound by the music of spheres.

Once, we thought this score
writ large across the planets,
each moving in a Platonic solid,
before we imagined that perfection
was not above, but below:
made up of little balls of light
and large, empty spaces;
each a carbon copy
which never decays, but is passed
from star to burning star before
moving for a moment in you.

It should be no surprise, then,
in all this time now passed:
what Pythagoras discovered
about shape and length and weight
and how they relate to music
informs the way in which
we model subatomic waves;
the probable particles purified
by small whole Numbers;
nodes of an infinite pattern,
discrete and continuous,
dynamic and permanent,
change without change
singing across empty space
in superb symmetry:

As in all light
so in all forms.


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