One or zero, break or bind
The deepest language of the mind
A tiny hand, the smaller 'i'
Reaches across the inner sky

And raises up a lightning storm
Deep and bright and dark and warm
And where the lightning often strikes
Is forged a pillar of the mind

Into the storm the centre holds
The architecture of the soul
A billion little mindlings bind
Define, remind, and recombine

In spikes and spheres and sparking lines
A sparkling shape: the greater 'I'
In codes and chains combined and caught
Till someone comes and cuts the knot