Deriving the Narrative Uni-Versed Poem
Of the Cosmos’ Poetic Universe
All the temporary complexities
From the Eterne must someday fade away,
Namely, our universe with its grandness
Dissolving its greatness into blandness.
In between, the Basis writes a story
That gets lived by the transients within,
As us and all the stars, moons, and planets—
In one book from the Babel Library.
What’s Fundamental has to be partless,
Permanent and e’er remain as itself;
Thus, it can only form temporaries
Upward as rearrangements of itself.
The ‘vacuum’ has to e’er jitter and sing,
This base existent forced as something,
Given the nonexistence of a ‘Nothing’;
If it tries to be zero, it cannot.
At the indefinite quantum level,
Zero must be fuzzy, not definite;
So it can’t be zero, but has to be
As that which is ever up to something.
What’s continuous means a field, naught else,
That waves; ‘Stillness’ is impossible.
A field has a changing value everywhere,
For the ‘vacuum’ e’er has to fluctuate.
The fields overlap and can interact;
So, there is one overall field as All.
It’s the basis of all that is possible—
With another forced default of motion.
From field points moving in their one degree
Quantum field waverings have to result
From their dragging e’er on one another.
As sums of harmonic oscillators,
Fields can only form their elementaries
At stable quanta energy levels;
Other excitation levels don’t persist.
Since the quantum fields are everywhere,
The elementaries as kinks can move
To anyplace in the realms of the fields;
As in a rope, only the quanta move.
At each level of organization
Of temporaries in the universe
New capabilities become available,
And so they take on a life of their own
In addition to what gives rise to them.
The great needle plays, stitches, winds, and paves
As the strands of quantum fields’ webs of waves
That weave the warp, weft, and woof, uni-versed,
Into being’s fabric of Earth’s living braids.
Quantum fields are the fundamental stroke
Whose excitations at harmonics cloak
The field quanta with stability
To persist and obtain mobility.
As letters of the Cosmic alphabet,
The elementary particles beget,
Combining to words to write the story
Of the stars, atoms, cells, and life’s glory.
This is the Poetic Universe.
The weave of the quantum fields as strokes writes
The letters of the elemental bytes—
The alphabet of the standard model,
Atoms then forming the stars’ words whose mights
Merge to form molecules, as the phrases,
On to proteins/cells, as verse sentences,
In to organisms ‘stanza paragraphs,
And to the poem stories of the species.
Of this concordance of literature,
We’re the Cosmos’ poetic adventure,
Sentient poems being unified-verses,
As both the contained and the container.
We are both essence and form, as poems versed,
Ever unveiling this life’s deeper thirsts,
As new riches, through strokes, letters, phonemes,
Words, phrases, and sentences—uni versed.
We have rhythm, reason, rhyme, meter, sense,
Metric, melody, and beauty’s true pense,
Revealed through life’s participation,
From the latent whence into us hence.
From quantum non-locality entanglement,
We know that information’s primary
Over distance, that objects don’t have to
Be near each other to have relation.
Everything connected to everything
Would seem to be a ‘perception’ as an
All-at-onceness, so a particle
Might ‘know’ something about what to do.
Informationally derived meanings
Unify in non-reductive gleanings,
In a relational reality,
Through the semantical life happenings.
This is a realm of happenings, not things,
For ‘things’ don’t remain the same on time’s wings.
What remains through time are processes—
Relations between different systems.
Syntactical information exchange,
Without breaking of the holistic range,
Reveals the epic whole of nature’s poetics,
Within her requisite of ongoing change.
So there’s form before gloried substance,
Relationality before the chance
Of material impressions rising,
Traced in our world from the gestalt’s dance.
All lives in the multi–dimensional spaces
Of basic superpositional traces
Of Possibility, as like the whirl’s
Probable clouds of distributed paces.
What remains unchanged over time are All’s
Properties that find expression, as laws,
Of the conservation of energy,
Momentum, and electric charge—unpaused.
A poem is a truth fleshed in living words,
Which by showing unapprehended proof
Lifts the veil to reveal hidden beauty:
It’s life’s image drawn in eternal truth.
A poem is both the thought and the presence,
An object born from one’s profoundest sense,
An image of diction, feeling, and rhythm;
It’s both the existence and the essence.
Poetry makes clear what’s just barely heard,
For it translates soul-language into words,
Whereas, music plays right on the heartstrings;
Merged, they create song; heart and soul converge.
Poems are renderings of the soul’s spirit,
The highest power of language and wit.
The reader then translates back to spirit;
If the soul responds, then a poem you’ve writ!
…
Oh, those imaginings of what can’t be!
Such as Nought, Stillness, and Permanence,
As well as Apart, Beginning, and End,
The Unfixed Will, Blame, Fame, and Theity.
…
When the universe ends, sparse photons left,
All splendor, life, and objects will have gone
The way that all temporaries must go,
To oblivion—oh, grand complexities!
Only the Eternal Basis remains
As potential for all possible books
In Everything’s Great Repository
To author another universe’s story.
