View-Finder Poem by Ananta Madhavan

A numbness comes with age, wonder falls
Away. Even as children we are tired
Of solving shapes. We omit to remark
The pattern of leaves, the geometry of trees.
As for 'seeing the world in a grain of sand'
Et Cetera, it never occurred to us. Friend
Wordsworth's effusions over some rotten bush
Seem rather forced; isn't he whipping himself
Into a frenzy about a gaudy eclair of rainbow?

It's not even as if nature is beautiful.
Look at the clash of colours everywhere.
Why exempt the maker from minimal standards
Of aesthetic values? I grant you the fecundity,
But rubbish repeated is not what we want;
A view-found Matterhorn is all right in its way,
But the whole bloated Alps wears a leprous look.