Six faces and eight vertices.
Go ahead, check. Count them. We’ll wait.
Check the gravel, mica, crystals.
Check clouds of atoms swirled like stars.
Aim after even lighter stuff—
Axions, low-energy waves
Reclining at galactic lengths.
Geometers predict the shapes
Will clump and break about the same—
Six faces and eight vertices,
Give or take. Every cube’s a wave,
And every wave, including light,
Conceals a darkly cubic heart.
Isaiah did glimpse seraphim,
Time’s burning, six-enfolded snakes
With wings and voices, eyes inside,
Black holes circling through the cosmos,
Crying, holy, holy, holy,
Is our darkness, fragmentation,
Our coal of life that touched your tongue.