Fractal Echoes
They see a shape upon a screen,
A boundary measured, sharp and small,
A box of miles, a cube defined,
With finite length and structured wall.
But like the blue box in the storm,
Or nesting dolls of painted wood,
The outside is a gentle cloak
For depth that can’t be understood.
For look closely at the coastline’s edge,
Where rivers turn to starlight swirls,
You dive into a single drop
To find a thousand hidden worlds.
And in the deepest, quiet space,
Buried within the patterned trace,
A perfect baby universe
Reflects the Father’s starting place.
This is the map of how we live,
The spark of bird, the breath of man,
Each soul a wave of energy
Returning where it first began.
Into the great and golden cube,
Where rest and vibrant rivers meet,
An endless territory wakes
Beneath our unencumbered feet.
And just when every world seems full,
The Master takes the cosmic pen,
To fold the fabric back once more
And bid the new earth start again.
A tapestry of worlds in worlds,
Where life expands and never ends,
And every soul that passed to peace
Deep in the fractal grace ascends.
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