This is the beginning and the end. The rise and the fall.nOur gait will begin its saunter at the source, when the infant learns to crawl.nnPlace your hand on mine.nUntie your mind.nLet your bloated brain balloon and float away.nWet the end of the thread.nThimble upon your index.nnSet the needle on its path,nBobbing up and down and past.nTears and seams all turn to onenWith every stitch and each spool spun.nnFeed the line through its eye.nDraw it from the other side.nPull the strand to satisfy.nThe need to compose.nThe genetic map.nThe scientific gap.nThe detailed blueprints.nSwept away under carpets.nnAll we did was thread the eyenOf the silver splinter.nWe simply planted the seednAnd nursed it through the winter.nnThe rest is up to you and what you'll do.nnTo learn and love and laughnUntil the cycle circles backnI'll just separate, weigh anchor, disengagenDivide and disappear. And see you in the mirror.nnI'm a slave to the night.nnO the Scientist was the author and the architect. nThe angels were His ink slingers, His actors and actresses. nHis two purest talents were Ahrima and Nidria, two destined hearts,nBound by the same idea; the unrelenting constancy of love and hope nCan rescue and restore you from any scope. nIn her, Ahrima confided his curbing frustration. nHis gifts had been exhausted. nOh, how they'd misused them. nShe averted his passion and eased his blood. nAnd so he confessed it to her, he had fallen in love.nnA slave to your eyes.