Chanda Katonga Poet Free verse

Michael Faraday

When I
switch on
the light,

I think
of you,
Faraday.

Born
to a poor
blacksmith

in London,

where poverty
tried
to bury

your dreams.

Yet you
listened
to Nature,

while kings
listened
to power.

You discovered

electromagnetic
induction,

the heartbeat
of generators,

transformers,
and the
electric motor.

You gave
light
to a world
that had
forgotten
how to
dream.

In 1825,
you discovered
benzene,

a gift

to science
and industry.

When I
pass
the Sandemanian
church plot
at Highgate,

I remember
that greatness
can rest
in silence.

You conquered
poverty.

You conquered
ignorance.

Without
wealth.

Without
titles.

Without
formal education.

The powerful
built empires.

You built
the future.

Every lamp
that defeats
the night
whispers
your name.

And when
the streetlights
flicker,

I do not
see electricity.
I see
Michael
Faraday—

the poor
man's son,
who became

the light

of the
nineteenth
century.

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