Wave Packet, by Steve Breaux and Kathy Reed

For years I barely spoke except a little at supper
and then I would lock myself away in the cellar
my human instincts blinkered, devolved
more grunts than grammar

So it was in grief that I built my instrument
the smallest gateway no larger than a florin
a desperate soul’s ingenious plea
it pierced the universe into God’s kaleidoscope

And through the eyepiece I watched fractal, sharded realities
paths not taken and events that never occurred
but those fancies aside, I saw you again
I saw the sum of existence
and in its maths was your superposition

What a monster I am
to quantify my daughter as some probabilistic
I rank my personal efforts with you against the averages
and saw that my failures were my own and only my own

I just wanted a way to see you happy again