Words unspoken, hearts left broken Pride's a wall we build so high But two little phrases can make it right Gotta learn to apologize
Say sorry when you're wrong Say thank you when you're blessed These simple words are strong They heal and they connect Don't let your ego blind you To the power they possess Just say sorry, say thank you And watch love do the rest
Gratitude opens doors Humility mends what's torn In this world of give and take New beginnings can be born
It ain't about who's right or wrong It's about growing together, moving on Appreciate the good, admit your flaws That's how real love evolves
Sorry and thank you Small words, big change Sorry and thank you Never too late to say
How can one sky hold night and day, Sun and snow? How can one heart hold love and passion. Friend and foe?
How can one rose hold flower and thorn, Bloom and death?
How can music hold these and more?— Is it God's breath?
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Track 1
How this picture is made
What a fractal is
A fractal is a shape that keeps its pattern when you look closer. Coastlines, trees, shells, and weather do this. The large form and the small form are the same kind of thing. A poem can be drawn that way. The shape of the whole comes from the shape of the lines.
Primunia is the name for the source of that order: the pattern under the pattern, already there in a tree, a shell, and a verse.
How the boundary is drawn
The number under the picture is the poem constant. It is read from the build of the lines: their length, how uneven they are, the size of the stanzas, the share of vowels, and the way the lines end. A new word moves the number when it changes that build. The same poem always gives the same number.
Drawn on its own, that number sits in a quiet part of the plane, and most poems would look like the same soft disk. So the number is carried outward along its own direction until it meets the edge of the Mandelbrot set, where the shape turns sharp. The picture is the Julia set of that meeting place.
Each point on the canvas is folded again and again by one small rule. Points that stay near the rule form the dark interior. Points that rush away become the coloured bands. The hue comes from the poem constant, and the brightest bands turn toward gold. Change the length of a line, the stanza, or the vowel share, and both the number and the picture move.
What the branching signifies
Branching draws the poem as a tree. Each turn follows a line, and every smaller branch repeats that pattern. A longer line reaches farther. The letters at the start of a line bend the next turn. A higher share of vowels opens the branches wider.
The trunk takes its colour from the poem constant and warms toward gold at the tips. When the poem has more than one stanza, gold forks leave the trunk. Each fork is a stanza beyond the first, up to three. The tree divides where the poem divides. One stanza remains a single trunk.