The Iterative Nature of the Magical Discovery Process

by Bogi Takács

for {J, M}
		

Spellwords: LĀM WĒ AWĀN

Mairu:

We're testing the patience of jellyfish;
Eyawan dips ankles, hands in the water
as she struggles to maintain altitude.
The spell should be technically correct,
she just has difficulty with power.
I push the oft-heard words away from myself:
	humans are not supposed to fly.

Eyawan:

Along a straight line; how simple,
I thought, and yet how to persist
in this heated constantly dragging-
draining spellsheath around me
I do not know! But Mairu could —

Mairu:

She resists to ask until she falls,
clambers out of the shallow seawater
grimacing, jellyfish-stung.
Together we have enough magic —
I only ask if I could watch from below,
for I am dearly afraid of the sky.

Eyawan:

Yes! I am pulled along as if
on a string, these breathrending
ever-hastening speeds
make my blood steam! Yes —
but I cannot go higher,
I nudge my body against the air
I despair — will I forever
trail the watersurface, never to
rise higher, will I be fated
to this distasteful imitation,
a pretend-seagull cawing in vain?

Mairu:

We must rethink the spellwords.

Spellwords: LĀM WĒ LĀM

Eyawan:

I shrug, ignore the smiles giggles
that trail us like water drips
in our footsteps. Kids run after us
race from the hilltops and squeal
in delight. Possibility-churn in
my thoughts, an overabundance
of fresh approaches — I shall not be
distracted, I shall not —

Mairu:

The bristly fisherfolk truly like us:
two haphazard women from the city
who hug and kiss with a passion.
They are not intimidated,
do not whisper or point fingers,
two such strong mages, not
in a hundred years — I grew weary
of the chatter in the Academy.
I wanted to work, and Eyawan likewise:
even now, walking along the
dirt path with chin held high,
I can feel the feverish thought-churn
inside her unruly head.

Eyawan:

Wait — ahead lies a pattern
of relating a concept to itself
binding it together one to one.
Rubberstrings will snap me
into the clouds when we try this —
	Mairu, Mairu, can it be today?

Mairu:

After a hearty fish-stew we rush back
to the shore, Eyawan already plotting.
My stomach is too complacent and full,
but her enthusiasm helps draw the magic
from within my chest. She swings up
into the air, at a familiar angle:
one-eighth of a circle as they measure
in the Academy. She laughs and whoops,
disappears into the sky. Fear grips me
for a moment, but she keeps
steadily drawing on my magic,
therefore she must be all right.
She reappears at a similar, descending angle —
did she reverse the spell? Hmm...
	Beloved, can we change
	just a few words
	and thus change the steepness?

Eyawan:

I love you. I really need to sleep.

Spellwords: LĀM WĒ AWĀN LĀM

Mairu:

My construction, my concept this time?
We complement each other and sometimes
we find it hard to tell us apart —
even though Eyawan is brusque and I am
mild and stolid, on occasion even boring.
Our handiwork merges smoothly.

Eyawan:

Twice as high, twice as fast, twice twice
I can just multiply, increase, soar
mock the sea-creatures from above,
twist and corkscrew around my axis
as the spell drives me up like an arrow
in a straight line steeper than last time.
This, this is improvement,
the sheer force of iteration that must
eventually produce a breakthrough — 
this is what drives me onward.

Mairu:

Persistence is the key that opens this lock.
My magic is smooth and flat like the islands,
and as it joins with Eyawan's and pulls her
ever higher, I hiss between my teeth —
I close my eyes to feel the wind against her face.

Spellwords: LĀM WĒ LĀM AWĀN-WĒ LĀM

Eyawan:

We roast onions I munch, the sweet taste
splattering in my mouth and we muse,
triumph must be so close as to touch — oh
	why does it have to be a straight line
	why
	if we use a concept to describe the slope
	we can also fill that slot
	with the concept itself
	we can, we can —

Mairu:

Sometimes I'd just like to eat,
but this time I'm curious, eager
to see what our new set
of spellwords brings.
We build science out of nothing.
A new, different world —
populated by shared ideas
and filled with gasping delight.

Eyawan:

Ever-curving skyward, this falling
sunward grips me as I spread
arms to feel the resistance of air
on my skin — I cry with the release
of joy, mutual success, I sense
Mairu down below stretching out
hands toward me and smiling, I, I —

Mairu:

Eyawan, it's me!

Eyawan:

We.
	I flatten, fall back-forward,
splosh into sea like a lost firework —
these curves and arcs are tricky!
I spit out saltwater and cuss.
Yes, we did it!

Mairu:

This embrace, this dance
in the sticky-warm sea 
is a pearl of memory
I shall cherish, I know —
but my mind already works
on formulating the next step,
and with Eyawan it's the same.
We join hands, drag each other
to the rough-grained sand,
lie there panting as the grit
insinuates itself into fabric —
I'll have plenty to wash.
Now, we pledge to each other:
	Tomorrow, we begin again.




______________

The poem references János Bolyai's famous dictum: "Out of nothing, I created a new, different world."

Describing the mathematical functions using current Earth conventions is an exercise left to the reader.
Solutions below...






x → 2
x → x
x → 2x
x → x2

March 25th, 2015