Literature

Who Am I?

Who am I? Asks my hidden self

Not one of the many who roam about here
Different, yes… Distinctly different
From those shreds and shavings of  humanity
Dry and sere.
Shreds and shavings,  the average lot
Work and earn and spend
Eat  and copulate and die.
I, not they, am  the center, the kernel
That makes the race change and bend.
Alone am I – of the new race? I don’t know
Others like me should there be some
In this or that  nation, here or  there
Must they come? Yes, they must come!
A new race. Prodigious, dexterous, apt
Insightful, knowing, learned and wise
Stands in the wings, waiting
About to become the race supreme.

I am but an early herald.

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