Beginning To Wonder - Poem by Ananta Madhavan
Standing on a veranda, gazing at that tree in the compound,
A boy of nine begins to wonder, how is it that he is there,
Standing on that veranda, looking up at that tree, his friend,
Who is he and how, what is the truth and congruence of it?
Programmed like silicon chips,
My genes' entelechy
Determined I write this;
And you, Socratic soul,
Remember writing this!
Rubbish it may be;
The flaw is not in me
But in our assemblage.
Something gives -
Sparks, flashes -
Currents are singing,
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