Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.029 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.

Departed Days

by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

−0.3329 − 0.2994i

Drawing the boundary…

Ocean's Pulse

by Richard

−0.3070 − 0.2864i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Departed Days

by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Yes, dear departed, cherished days,
Could Memory's hand restore
Your morning light, your evening rays,
From Time's gray urn once more,
Then might this restless heart be still,
This straining eye might close,
And Hope her fainting pinions fold,
While the fair phantoms rose.

But, like a child in ocean's arms,
We strive against the stream,
Each moment farther from the shore
Where life's young fountains gleam;
Each moment fainter wave the fields,
And wider rolls the sea;
The mist grows dark,—the sun goes down,—
Day breaks,—and where are we?

Ocean's Pulse

by Richard

Waves crash on the shore, a rhythmic beat
Sand between my toes, the earth beneath my feet
The ocean's pulse, it calls to me
A primal song of unity

We're born of the sea, you and I
Our hearts beat in time with the tide
Inhale, exhale, like the ocean's swell
In this moment, all is well

The desert meets the sea, two worlds collide
Ancient rhythms flow, impossible to hide
My breath syncs up with nature's tune
Connecting me to sun and moon

Eternal waves, but fleeting are we
Like drops that rise and fall, returning to the sea
Through cloud and river, we make our way
Back to the ocean, where we'll stay

From the depths we came, to the depths we'll return
One with the water, one with the earth
This endless cycle, it sets us free
We are the ocean, the ocean is me

Waves crash on the shore, a rhythmic beat
The ocean's pulse, it calls to me

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Track 1
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