The bands embracing 'round just empty space, The counting numbers first emerge apace. Then comes zero to center th' universe, A singularity, division's curse. Then less than nothing, what's below zero, The negatives opposing totals show. Next You created ratios sublime, Dividing rationally space and time. To fill the gaps between these rationals, You birthed the never dupped irrationals. Among these reals reside the roots of squares - The value times the value that's a plus. But an imaginary a root of a negative bears - Something by something that's a minus. And greater than the greatest new amounts Emerge, uncountable, inaccessible counts. And lastly smaller than the smallest summing, You birth th' instants of perishing-becoming.
©2010 John A. Mills