Let there be lines, he said. Let there be vectors, plots and graphs. He skipped pebbles over the pool of his mind as he devised a plan made up completely of endings.
Let there be angles troubled by twists and turns. Let forward and backward be arbitrary, just a dubious arrangement of flotsam and blitz. Let there be clues and traces, but no solution.
Let shapes enter forms that echo shadows cast by ladders to nowhere. Let uncertaintly be vexed by avoidance and puzzled by what arrives after. Let eons come before next.
Let all the signs hint at comprehension while remaining unspelled. Not either/or but henceforth. And inasmuch as.
without a prayer
Brendan at earthweal has asked us to describe the unsayable nature of the pandemic we are still fighting our way through.