Angles

If only angles could be calculated by degrees of truth, Counted along perpendicularities measured by parallel reasons. If only spheres were round, Found amongst the globes hovering in the heavens we've named Space. Circling nuclei like electrons to an atom, orbiting thoughtlessly around a point that never proved itself. Heat and light suffice reason, it seems. To be and hither thither, round about we go, whether poisoned entrails grow. Math were to be the way to see, Rather than moth to flame, Until recently, it seems. Counting pasts and futures has become futile, when the present takes both for granted. If only we could count the circles round we've been, If only we could swing in tune to frequent hymn, If only we could see that out is what's within, Then we'd learn of curve, sine and reason.