Researching the Fibonacci Sequence for an article I have been commissioned to write while at the same time reading Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning” for my own enlightenment, I could not help penning this poem as a personal creative response to the sensational feeling that I am drawing ever nearer to my own life’s purpose, as if my steps are following a sweeping spiral of some kind, a grand design of my Creator, Whose purpose I long to make my own.

The Fibonacci Sequence:

1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34 . . .

Fibonacci Salute 

One finds

one self alone suddenly where there were 

two when repeated percussion strikes spark

three-dimensional (make that 

five or 

eight) fires with fangs in swiftest motion, scythe-like, as in an unlucky

thirteen lightning strike, dealing mortal blows until every

twenty-one gun salute cracking the still, chill air cackles, “He’ll never see

thirty-four.”