What gave numbers their power was the very act of naming them and writing them down.
—Amir Aczel, “The Origin of the Number Zero,” Smithsonian Magazine, December, 2014
Imagine, says my friend, before 700
there was no zero, which means
before that there was no concept
of nothing. In my bowl,
there is only a bit of squash soup left.
I add some salt, take a small bite.
There is less. I remember reading
that numbers exist outside
the human mind. Not like
a John Deere tractor that’s invented.
Not like a sonata that’s composed.
I take another bite of soup.
it is warm and tastes of apple
and thyme. I try to imagine it,
not knowing of nothing.
What would I have said
was in my bowl now that
the soup is gone? What
would I have thought
was in the chair beside me
here where you are not?
How would it change this
all that is, not comprehending
this all that is not?
Love the way you play with the idea of nothing along with the concept of the number zero in this poem.
Thank you! I am rather obsessed with nothing …
🙂 It’s such an intriguing and mysterious topic.