the prayer of reeds

a few words about love and primary numbers

Starfish swim from the child’s eyes.
Scarves of music stream from her ears.
A mushroom speaks of underground rivers,
The moving tides of limestone ripple her skin. 

She lives in a world of sensing. 
She will be told not to believe in magic. 
Here we speak of numbers, the primes to be precise.
A scientist’s mind spirals, wills a pattern to peal into song.

In vain. 
A circle: 
Includes imaginary pointers,
Irrational symbols we cannot live without. 

The child is adrift on the shifting sands of knowledge. 
Where do mathematics live or the three wise magi?
An ocean sweeps through her hemlock hands.
Love still washes through her in waves. 

I stand amid the prayer of reeds with her. 
With astonished need to understand.
Primes are indivisible but to themselves. 
Their silence demands surrender. 

A singularity.
Ease: 
A wrestling with words and symbols, the chains between objects,
Where objects never were, the search for meaning turns useless.

A cage springs its lock, pours out new courages
Into the small country you once believed yourself to be. 
The child and I, a universe.
Story is now too far removed from who we are.

Sprinkle the silent seeds 
Of beauty into your sleep.
You will taste it, this truth:
Our being the sweetness in all things. 

credit: joseph barrientos