Poetry for Engineers: Nine Lives of Nikola Tesla

He was born into a storm, lightning split the summer sky, in a village the world had not yet heard of. The midwife called it a bad omen, his mother called it a sign. Your first life began in a storm, under open sky. One winter night you ran your hand along a cat’s back, and the darkness cracked open with sparks. Your mother warned the house could burn. You were already chasing what you learned: Light would return. Your second life came underwater, in the current deep. No light, no air, the…