The Math to Everything

They say there’s a math to poetry that the math men know nothing about.  There’s a math to the universe that will tell why the sky is blue, and blood is scarlet, and the sea changes from black to green to white.  It explains why trees have leaves, and why leaves have lines, and why there are so many or so few.  It explains why the world is a circle when gold grows in squares, the mountains are pointed, and people are almost like stars. Not only does it tell why each rock rests exactly where it does, why each tree sprouted exactly where it grows, and why this grass blade is as dark as a forest while its brother is brown as the sand—but it tells why all of this together, with the white touching the blue touching the brown, black, and green, is more beautiful than anything that could have come from a palette or pencil.