Rive! Split apart, up and down circle both ways. Let the pearl be down the sea and the star up on the high find the sky. Not a perfect circle yet to scoop the last decimal of Pi it's fine. Let a loophole be only for an eye!
The fairies of colour lovely might give you the whole ball of wax. With the algorithm on your side but how long can one hold the water walking on a deep spinning earth? Forever closing in never a perfect circle there is a fine gap an unseen other side maybe until the moon if ever reaches out to the deep walking earth the pi creeps in the sun follows by!
A human jumps over the other side of the wall the pi was on the way, abyss of decimal ocean kept expanding deep and wide but the formula was handy on her hand she could nail it down. Perfectly squares the circle, the ocean in a drop and peeps up over the irrational chasm for good scaling at the highest high Fathima moons! . Deduces straw by straw the maestros' dream ascension potion-polished taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendo between past and future, here and hereafter, circle duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow oh, nothing is like it in plain sight or the world in toto!
Raw Fathima moves on the shadow nature follows clustering atoms ever spin in the space in between the two impossible to fathom, couldn't do in Makkah and Medina, remained untouched, uncharted while there she was living in encrypted fashion wholly secured yet full functioning! The intelligent design, blueprint is in her elements and the breakthrough exponent is in her eyes she is the original can show the way.
Truly the only one feminine zoom passes the irrational pi, the most complex chasm yet mathematically goldmine. Beyond the mass eyes and their painting canvases in the daylight that get lost though at the twilight but us are victorious; since a human being bears the moonlight!
The night at the twilight may take the sun into its veil, as a little mole into its star-vanishing fathomless trails. The rainbows are already shaded into Fathima’s black hair bolder than the dark matter that has the cosmos glinting off it’s edge, the story goes on for the mass ‘Paint in bold black before the sunrise’ Fathima matters.
Imagine the bird of time the sun is on the fly shining the quantum of time.
From the bottom the Planck length in the east flying round the clock to the west.
Half way through it could be at the twilight but it sings a swan song. Nothing is a perfectly round stock not even the sun’s clock.
Around the two fine points in the circumference of a circle no length is a set fixed minimal Planck length. Always be an irrational gap breeding anew pi decimals never the same nor ever ends. Always new, a little more, an uncharted ****** mole!
Pi with love won’t die it’s irrational but rational between the infinite Creator and finite creation.
A creation is dead zero somewhere being irrational with the eternally Irrational That can’t be thought, or felt let alone be seen is beyond the imagination! But Qun Be the very creating Voice at the beginning that was allowed to be heard! Giving the rational reason the creation revives on a tangent. Turns on to a perfect circle counting on both worlds perfectly closed!
Follows the Voice in the nothingness abyss pleasantly resonant throughout the deepest and darkest hours showing light. Suddenly the creation becomes so relevant finds love that was in creating the creation. It starts to discover its own seductive narrative arc: The vital three acts the beginning, the middle and the end!
But finds no true end therefore no middle in the middle no, begin in the beginning. The creation in the creation floating in the void nothingness starts to see the Irrational for good!