19  July  Posted by admin
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Golden Mean

We held our places at the table
Like a star my family
I put my crayons in the center
And I drew the Golden Mean
Perfect in our proportions
Like a creature of the sea
Like the Pantheon in Italy
Fibonacci would have been pleased, with my family

We marked our places on the doorway
In thin pencil as we grew
We were a golden ratio
And we never even knew
We could never be divided
Like a starfish limb from limb
And even if we lost an arm
We’d grow it back again, in my family

Now you’re standing here and you’re telling me
Telling me it’s all lost
Now you’re standing here and you’re telling me
Telling me you’re already gone

We hold our places at the table
Like a star my family
I put my compass in the center and I say
Are we still golden or just mean?
Take an apple for example
Can’t always tell from the outside
But if you split it down the center you’re bound to
see
These perfect lines, of my family

Cause we can never be divided
Like a starfish limb from limb
And as we spin our circles wider we’re always
Coming home again, in my family

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