Whether one wants to believe or not, matters little. Nature has no straight lines. Men’s eyes perceive straight, but illusions fool the eye every day. This poem, written for the Poetic Asides prompt today–Write a Straight Poem–is as straight as I can make it.
For what are curves in God’s reality?
Are they not lines which are always straight
To eyes focused only on the path which
Guides wanderers’ feet toward the future?
Even detours re-converge on a straight road.
Man’s eyes cannot see a curve except at distance,
Allowing the straight line immediate attention.
Fractals inform the mind of God’s humor and
Irony when knowledge of true shapes bursts against
Traditional thought, seeing all shapes repeat themselves.
Infinitesimal copies of each shape combine to show
Man one object comprised of countless selves showing off;
Each body wearing a slightly larger copy of itself,
Infinite layers bringing to light an image for man’s
Illusory delight and temptation to straighten out.