THE GOLDEN RATIO

by Paul Pines

bare limbs just greening
taxonomy
starkly visible
implicate echo
of leaves
porches at night
harboring shadows

we walk
my old shepherd Harry
behind me
                  half deaf
                  eyes cloudy
led by his nose
stops
to sniff roots and dirt
surfaces rich
in history
so complete he can
taste it on his
tongue

               voices
from back yards
open windows
gather and
dissolve
under
a street lamp

I wonder
at the interface
of music and numbers
pi chasing infinity

Debussey folding
the Golden Ratio
into La Mer

Pascal shambling
beside me

I tell him it doesn’t
matter stars above us
have died long ago
and lie buried in
light years

illusion
experienced as fact
more profound
than fact as
experience

everything I see
cries out I AM