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Walking with Einstein
Imagine I met Einstein on the trail
7700 feet above sea level.
Wildflowers celebrated our arrival.
The sky grew dark. Any minute rain to fall.
He brought his violin. Which made us three.
Four counting God, in whom his head was wrapped
As much as numbers in which he was most apt,
Or rapt, which better serves opacity.
What formulas were forming as we walked?
Rain came and quickly went. The wind was sodden,
The sun was warm, the elements worked out even
Before the pick-up came to take him back.
That day I wore a pin of Celtic design:
One infinite line, deeply interlocked.
I told him "Thank you" as if we had talked.
And he said "Thank you" as if he had seen.
IDA FASEL