To Think in Curves

Parabolic vectors float 

across a sea of simple blank.

The soul transfixed with formulas

Dependence, duodecima,

I saw it start just as it sank -

Unknowing, keep its path by rote.

The flexibility of curves:

An algebraic miracle

Tweak variables, or invert sets -

The formula just smiles and lets

The little mathematician pull

The thought into a gentle swerve.

But,

My thoughts have bottoms, tops and sides.

My thought have limits, edges, lives

Of digits, integers. I hide

Behind constriction.

But,

Could I but calculate this 'me'

Into a logarithm rise,

A swooping sort of curve, to glide

Out lightly to the sea!