Revision 1.5
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number.
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was a spark
blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman
dancing from her husband.
The word desired language, and before men
would settle on the tongues of animals.
Giraffe would sing an aubade to the birds,
clouds wreathing his head like a crown.
Snake would slither from tree to tree,
as shadows at dusk, coiled like an unasked question.
Sin had not been defined.
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set.
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication,
until the day of the first subtraction;
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting.
The number can neither love
nor hate the word.
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end.
Q.E.D.
~~~
1.5: Added Couplets to the Word parts (Anne) decided to structure Number differently
Original
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number.
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was light, and chariot, and unfolding flower,
a spark blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman dancing
from her husband.
The animals would speak their names
to rejoice in each syllable
Giraffe was like the brook's happy gurgle.
Snake was as shadows at dusk.
Sin had not been defined.
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set.
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication,
until the day of the first subtraction;
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting.
The number can neither love
nor hate the word.
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines,
of orthodoxy and heresy
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end.
Q.E.D.
(An edited poem from the chess thread with Brandon)
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number.
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was a spark
blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman
dancing from her husband.
The word desired language, and before men
would settle on the tongues of animals.
Giraffe would sing an aubade to the birds,
clouds wreathing his head like a crown.
Snake would slither from tree to tree,
as shadows at dusk, coiled like an unasked question.
Sin had not been defined.
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set.
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication,
until the day of the first subtraction;
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting.
The number can neither love
nor hate the word.
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end.
Q.E.D.
~~~
1.5: Added Couplets to the Word parts (Anne) decided to structure Number differently
Original
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number.
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was light, and chariot, and unfolding flower,
a spark blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman dancing
from her husband.
The animals would speak their names
to rejoice in each syllable
Giraffe was like the brook's happy gurgle.
Snake was as shadows at dusk.
Sin had not been defined.
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set.
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication,
until the day of the first subtraction;
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting.
The number can neither love
nor hate the word.
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines,
of orthodoxy and heresy
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end.
Q.E.D.
(An edited poem from the chess thread with Brandon)
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson