At times I pass by mathematical theorems
as I would a flourishing field
while on a peripheral road.
I admire their sight
keeping away the feeling
to get involved.
An occasion or two come to mind
when I had potted a plant, or read a proof
and had become absorbed
in that completeness.
I imagine a farmer, or a mathematician
ploughing, tending, solving,
intent, unseen, immersed.
I think about backaches and headaches,
dirtying of hands,
sweaty days and waking nights.
And without stopping
to take in a whiff
I carry on
on the solid, hard, certain road.
4 comments:
if only our fears wouldn't get the better of us
You just proved that poetry and mathematics go together better than most think!
A very interesting blog.
Beautifully written post...must say : only those who have toiled would know how much effort the ploughing takes!
such disregard for certainty, I think I share the emotion..
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