Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.081 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

The Wisdom of the Wild

by Richard

−0.1400 + 0.9617i

Drawing the boundary…

Sarah Dewitt

by Edgar Lee Masters

−0.1090 + 1.0370i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

The Wisdom of the Wild

by Richard

In the heart of nature's splendour, where the ancient trees stand tall,
Lies a tale of wild creatures, and the wisdom they recall.
In the Budongo Forest shadows, where the chimpanzees roam free,
They seek the healing power, in the flora of the trees.

Oh, the wisdom of the wild, in the forests deep and green,
Where the chimpanzees are healers, with the knowledge yet unseen.
They teach us ancient secrets, in the medicines they find,
In the dance of nature's balance, there's a lesson for mankind.

They nibble on the leaves and bark, of trees and ferns unknown,
With a purpose and intention, their remedies are shown.
For wounds and infections, they know which plants to chew,
Their instincts are a guide, to the healing they pursue.

From the dead wood of Alstonia, to the fern leaves they consume,
Each plant a hidden doctor, in the forest's living room.
With anti-inflammatory power, and antibiotics strong,
The chimpanzees remind us, we've known this all along.

In the face of modern challenges, with diseases on the rise,
We turn to ancient forests, and the wisdom they comprise.
To the guardians of the green, and their medicinal lore,
The wild holds the answers, we've been searching for.

So let's protect these forests, and the secrets that they keep,
For in the heart of nature, lies the wisdom, pure and deep.
The chimpanzees are teachers, of a knowledge old and grand,
In their healing ways, they offer hope to every land.

Sarah Dewitt

by Edgar Lee Masters

Because I believed God brought him to me,
And because I believed him gifted of God
With honor, truth and love of the right,
I believed in God and worshipped God.
And then when I found he was just a thief,
And full of treasons and perjuries,
All for money and worldly pride,
The wreck of him was the wreck of God;
And so I fainted amid the ruins
Of plaster and sticks, and sat in the stillness
That followed the fallen bust of God.
Friends, it is folly to prison God
In any house that is built with hands,
In man or woman, or passionate hopes,
Or the love of Truth, or the Rock of Ages.
For all will change, deceive or crumble,
As soon as you think you have prisoned God.
For God is Proteus, and flies like magic
From earth to heaven, from hope to hope.
You never can catch Him, and this is the reason:
The game of the soul is never to find,
The game of the soul is to follow!

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