Beyond the darkling sea if no fair shore Lies, where low flutes play, where the bitter surf Is all forgotten, and the deep sea roar; Behind the towering, granite hill of death If no green crown of smooth, untrodden turf Welcomes us where the long-lashed daisies eye The sun so ardently they cannot die, And the wind sleeps beneath the orchard breath:
Then not for us the fugitive and fond Dream of a following music, harmonies Made from the human discord; for beyond Is mist, and a voice crying — All is over! Here is our heaven, in one another's eyes, In children's silver laughter. Here and now Ripe scarlet apples bend the golden bough, The bees' low roar is in the purple clover.
Let them bestow on ev'ry airth a limb, Then open all my veins that I may swim To thee my maker, in that crimson lake, Then place my par-boiled head upon a stake; Scatter my ashes, strow them in the air: Lord, since thou know'st where all these atoms are, I'm hopeful thou'lt recover once my dust And confident thou'lt raise me with the just.
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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.