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Once upon Reality was nothing ever laid,

and then came sentient thought, from which this and that are made.

At first the worldscape was spanned by mythic songline trails.

Then Reason gave it measure with shining steel rails.

The thundering beat of a racing heart echoes o'er the land.

The mighty, thoroughbred iron horse responds to the driver's hand.

Magician's passes the drive rods make o'er spinning discs of steel.

A dreamy vision come to life, the Štherial made real.

Passion's power draws the load of carriages thus entrained,

in smooth deliberate motion, by the road of rails constrained.

Laid to a purpose, the rails follow not the random inchoate terrain,

but, bridging chasms and tunneling mountains, an optimum course they maintain.

O'er the chaotic land by the smoothest possible route,

every bend and curve is meticulously laid out.

To each possible destiny the way is strictly shown,

like rules that guide a train of thought to truths as yet unknown.

Either this or either that, but nothing in between.

The switch is syllogistic; its choices sharp and clean.

Thus the Map of Physics, like a timetable manifest,

displays only limited choices and suppresses all the rest.

An endless variety of journeys can be made on that finite set.

The more scenic of those possibilities have not been played out yet.

But who laid down those rails and said whither they should go?

And are there other, hidden lines? Perhaps someday we'll know.

We note that it's all Standard Gauge, the same for each disparate line.

My trains can run on your track and your trains can run on mine.

And at this amazing network we can only pause and stare.

We cannot know the Designer yet, but it's clear that Someone is there.


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