I come from far away.
I come through the dark.
By my instrumentality,
By the taming of numbers,
I boldly toil to pursue
If you too are made of blue.

I come bearing the news
That the reign of the inanimate
Is not an absolute.
That tales of my ancestors
Were pretty but too made up
For a moon as icy prop.

I come dressed in eyes
To witness and to scribe
A birth, a truth or demise.
I come without subterfuge
To sing praise in four of six
Of the primordial mix

All to see under a gown
All is not mere ebb and flow
But the order of the living.
To compare and yield the reason
For this enormous expanse
Not to be just left to chance.


Jam25

(To be carved on its side)