A steady, uninspiring, arrested nature
To equally steady oscillations -
The field was devoid of life.
In this playground of nothingness
Creeped in some information, dissatisfaction.
And a new region opened itself up
To grey perturbations.
Inhomogeneities came into existence,
Thick, round clusters in hexagonal separation.
What do excitations amount to in life?
Wondered the ancient field,
With its newly broken invariance -
As the clusters couldn't hold on any longer.
Rich, well behaved circular waves were born.
And then the world saw light
Curiosity blossomed; knowledge flourished.
Until, it was but not enough.
Like it never is (Never, truly forever).
The heart started beating, the cortex woke up.
It is not enough to create, you see.
Whatever is created must also be destroyed.
The circle of reason extends to the field.
Planar waves must break down,
And follow the stipulated path -
Of gradient descent, into their own future -
Spirals and scrolls - turbulent and intelligent.
The ancient field, its homogeneity
Are now things of a long forgotten past.
It's a world of defects - that we inhabit
And take pride in, as we whisk our days away
In the dark of imagination, and science.
