I am in tension between two ways of seeing. 

 

Two kinds of beauty.

 

Two kinds of order.

 

The order of abstracts, 

The beauty of science,

of knowing,

The compulsion of stark lines,

The need to reduce,

To refine,

To comprehend a thing,

And mark it.

 

The order of chaos. 

The beauty in change,

and exchange.

The motion of complexity,

The patterns left behind.

As things fall apart.

The direction of entropy.

 

Two Ways.

 

And a shifting membrane, self-containing skein between the two. 
 

Seeking a way to resolve itself.