Sapiens, And Still Not Wise Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

This man in search of speed and pace—
Homo sapiens known by birth
And deprived of inherent worth,
Seem to run a hectic rat-race.

Evolution if calls him wise—
Grossly a charitable thought,
Reality shows otherwise,
Yet, smarter perhaps, wise he's not.

Rat-race letting him let, nor pause,
Nor ponder what plundered his peace,
Nor yet natural ease and bliss,
He no more is what he ere was.

Mere motion's not of action-rife,
By racing like a blinded moth,
He scarce can kiss the face of growth,
But that seems what defines his life.

Eager to mark his large footprint,
He launches thousand ships a time,
And dashes off in burst of sprint,
Not racing mad to him is crime.

Amidst plenty, most world lives lean,
Craving for peace this man weary
Ends up living life contrary,
Rootless he feels not in touch of within.

In race for a dream place somewhere,
With wistful, vacant, eager stare,
Running to chase, getting nowhere,
And tired, he grasps for breath of air.

On banks of a flowing river,
Running forever in rat race,
In unknown search of thankless pace,
Quenchless goes this man called mover!
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Homo sapiens, sapiens in Latin means wise.
But is man really wise?
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Musings | 02.07.06 |