“My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands me finally recognizes them as senseless, when he has climbed out through them, on them, over them. (He must so to speak throw away the ladder, after he has climbed up on it.)”
The hubris, of course, was aimed upward,
And therefore was an easy thing to pull out of their tower and into His grasp.
Those great calloused sculptor-hands reshaped it into something new.
Ambition had been the organizing principle and the support structure of that project
Cracks spiderwebbed through the bricks.
Mortar, which held the promise of changing everything, dried
And released the blocks from its embrace.
There was a terrible, timeless time of silence.
A gentle swaying in a soft breeze, at first.
But the tower never returned to its baseline.
The noise came, then. It was all noise, then.
Broken dreams and shattered bricks littered the ground.
They looked at each other with haunted eyes.
Unable to string together words of comfort,
They resorted to pantomime which was unequal to the task.
They left then,
In ones and twos and flocks.
They left then,
On foot and horse back and wagon.
It took a day and a second and a week.
The length of time it takes
To relive a life,
Flashing before the eyes.
Only two remained
In the wreckage of the tower of babylon.
Only two remained:
Ludwig, one was named. Jacob, the other was named.
God looked down on them.
The hubris had grown warm in his hands.
The hubris had grown new in his hands.
Ludwig and Jacob built a ladder.
Each man built his own ladder.
Each man, worked together on the same ladder.
That ladder was a wave and a particle.
It stretched itself up, and up, and up to heaven itself.
But it had come with an invitation.
The angels began to run up and down.
Ludwig began to climb around them, and planned to kick it down when he reached the first cloud.