Synthesis

Crawling on the surface of an elaborate mosaic,
A tiny ant tries to comprehend its design.
Restricted to the surface of the pattern,
He examines each tile in turn,
While trying to recall those that have gone before...
Though the mosaic is far too large
For him to cover in his lifetime.
And though tiles some distance from one another
Seem separate both in placement and character,
They are not unrelated, but contribute equally to the art.
And so the tiles:

Perched on an isolated mountaintop
In the dead of winter
Measuring the flights of galaxies
Across the coldness of space
Careful calculations reveal a universe expanding
More and more slowly,
The product of an explosion.

More calculations
And the microwaves permeating our galaxy
Reveal the carefully controlled reactions
That have permitted our existence.

Rummaging through an overcrowded refrigerator
I dropped a carton of milk.  It fell.
I hadn't expected anything different,
It having fallen, a white puddle exploring the linoleum;
Gravity is, at least, consistent.
And when I pushed the mop
It did not remain still, defying my hand,
But glided over the pool, absorbing it.
I shall be surprised the day the sun does not rise
Or when hot things do not cool.
A simple calculation will tell you
How long it will take to reach your destination.
A reliable world, though not rigid...

Sitting on a patch of green under shade trees
Toes inches from the creekside
The water forms swirls and eddies
As it plays around the rocks.
Unpredictable whether it should choose
One side or the other
Constantly shifting patterns
Over the direction of time
Defying simple equations, yet not indescribable.
And even the paths of stars
Exhibit chaotic behavior
Varied in their routine
Ever so slightly,
Requiring a whole new breed of mathematics.

How does a simple equation
Generate an image so like a fern?
Numbers trace the Sierras
Complete with snow-capped peaks
Or create elaborate fractal designs.
Graphing chaotic brain waves
Reveals a pontillistic braid
Woven in three dimensions.
Patterns emerge out of apparent randomness
When viewed with proper perspective;
The right coordinates
Transform confusion into clarity.

More complex than the most intricate fractal,
Hidden within these cells are
Tiny lattice-work designs of
Carbon and hydrogen
Nitrogen, oxygen and phosphate,
A written code of only five letters
Grouped into just four words, the nucleotides:
This language sufficient
To describe our entire physical makeup,
And to make me different from you
And from the lizard on the sidewalk
All with just four words
And only five letters
Fashioned into complex spirals
Elegant as the patter of rock and earth —

Hiking through the redwoods
The trail leads to a waterfall,
A chain of falls and pools
Down cliffs of white and gold.
Surrounded by ferns
I forgot their mathematics,
Inhaling the mist and the fragrance of pine.
Nor did I ponder how light bounces off of objects
Partially reflected, partly absorbed.
Bent by the cornea and striking the retina,
Giving us such an array of color
To meet these senses.
Only the colors themselves,
And the pattern of the leaves,
The winding creek
Were enough to give me pause.

A woman on my block, mother of rou,
Writes children's stories
Each character a piece and reflection of its author.
Through her eyes, her mind, her dreams —
The princess isolated in a tower, waiting for her lover,
The old woman weaving in the corner
Spinning yarns for the village children, even
The little boy searching through the wood after magic —
All are shadowy images of their creator.

The computer program written by a co-worker
Mirrors all of his style, or lack thereof —
Haphazard comments, ungrammatical like the
Clutter on his desk
The grouping of thoughts
As arbitrary as the hours he keeps, yet
Identical to the fragments of ideas
That litter his speech.

As I sketch your face,
Foolishly pretending I can draw,
Each stroke of charcoal betrays my hand
I hardly need to sign my name.
You laugh at the drawing.
"It looks like a Carolyn-person."

And so our atmosphere shields us from the harmful rays of the sun,
Clouds send water from the sky that we might have food,
And each night our earth turns its back upon the sun to give us rest
Bringing light ot others we shall never meet.

Last night it rained.  I listened
To the water quietly striking my window.
And my brother has a child, my niece,
Whom he loves.

Gazing up at the darkness,
The pattern of the stars
Glittering in their silence
Reveals a universe
Governed by knowable laws
And fashioned
By a knowable God.