E=mc2 Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

The egg lives on— caterpillar to be,
And this voracious worm when sheds its skin,
To hide unto a shell all so hardy,
Gets born alive, be butterfly within,
And soon dies, painted wings fall to wither,
Manure to be for plants that grow to bloom,
That, birds and bees can feed on its nectar
And lay eggs, new cycles of life to groom.
Or take a frozen snowflake's icy chunk,
Take droplets of water, see how hot steam
Transforms, all keeping cool face of a monk;
Notso dies vain, nor fails to live its dream.
What we call death is an eternal cycle
Of change; and thou O Death be a miracle!
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In death, body matter merges into elements— from matter to energy, an ever-changing cycle, a quantum change. When the contents of an egg become a caterpillar, it is only transformation, no death; so also when caterpillar transforms into butterfly. Only, some changes are not so visible.
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Sonnets | 03.11.11 |