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It was in the spring of ‘69
I first discovered parallel lines
White chalk on the blackboard,
The lines drawn straight,
Me sharing the teacher’s fascination.
He seemed in awe of them
Their allure and romance;
One young mind was quickly hooked.
The mystery of geometry
The narrative turned into a story;
The teacher positing a scientific theory
The class transfixed by the mystery!
He warned us not to ignore the lines
But to marvel and appreciate them;
Their unwavering, arrow-like aim.
“Be intrigued”, he said, why they never meet
Cross over, meander or intersect;
Turn neither left nor right
Navigating through dimensions
Without getting lost.
Never stopping or turning back
Solitary, Zen-like in purpose
Before landing at Euclid’s fifth postulate
Without engaging the reverse thrust.
But they mustn’t stop or wait;
Onwards they must continue.
They had a close shave getting there,
The two right angles at rendezvous point;
Proved so precariously difficult.... |
