Bēth (The Vessel)

O pomegranates and lilies disclosing
to Boaz and Jachin: I Ignalang am
the predicate of all you mean.
In the beginning was the primal point,
the primal homogeneity,
awaiting the logos, lex, and law
to break the cosmic symmetry.
Then at my Word, the light lashed exponentially:
Thus was God’s first thought
of something God was not.
His secret formulas and algebras
transduce to you in one of two:
my ontology binds the dual.
You know my oracles, my orations,
my forms that flicker like a flame,
now prophesize: Guess my name.

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