Through Escher’s Eyes by K. D. Harris
Through the downpour and a glass door, stepped inside to chance a glimpse
M.C. Escher, view for pleasure, his rare gift ~~ “math"tistic sense.
The clerk was so sure that the brochure printed details of his thought.
As she planned it, I quickly scanned it and found nothing that I sought.
Darken corridors nailed the order, of his relics to the wall.
Pen and paper sketched the vapor onto drawings that he scrawled.
His perfection of direction, patterned lines which seemed alike.
Slightly different, just a bit bent, within each repeated strike.
Scratched arranging, ink exchanging, flowed and poured out of his hand.
True precision, formed his vision, his perfection ~~ his command.
Still I pondered, as I wandered, past his sketches side by side.
I was marveled by his magic, dazzled by the math applied.
His illusions gave conclusion, chaos structures carved and drawn.
Could invite you, then excite you, possible I was the pawn.