The long night approaches.
The light grows dim.
Everyone is going silent,
except one little kid
- the voice I carry in my eye,
it screams in my ears
as it lets out a cry:
"I owe no one my silence!
I owe no one my words!
If I am made out of violence
- then those are my hertz!
I don't care if it's violent!
I don't care if it hurts!
My tune is like a violin
awaiting its orchestral turn!"
And so, as I've learned,
I give her the reigns,
and as the tune reverberates
all throughout the space,
once again, Wisdom true,
speaks as she reveals her face:
"Every frequency has its place.
Every indecency has its grace.
Every disruption, an escape,
every destruction elevates.
The art of darkness
was gifted to the brave
so that shadows they may seek,
the art of light to those that cherish the vulnerable and frayed,
so that they may heal the weak.
The art of both, a rarer gift,
was gifted but to a few,
to those that can hold
a stance both soft and bold,
to let both dark and light through.
Those were left guiding the gates
between what was real and true,
where black holes explode,
where dualities corrode,
where cold meets hot,
and old meets new."
I listened to her words
and had a little chuckle,
I know what she means
and I know it brings trouble.
But still I work
and wait by those gates
to once again discuss fate with Time,
who lately was wearing
something quite scary
- the mask of Death in his prime.
And then he came to me one night,
admiring my work,
knowing I will again ask about its worth,
and the rest... all of it he's heard,
the many times I've tossed and turned,
how the wheel burned,
how the knowledge got obscured,
but he knows
none of that is important, no,
only the wish
I made many moons ago...
the one to find my way back home.
He speaks with a tone that's firm:
"Both light and shadow
need be tilled like the earth.
Both joy and sorrow
need be transformed within the hearth.
Neither darkness
nor lightning
need scare the nondual away.
Neither love
nor hate
can pull the boundless astray.
You are right where you need be.
I remember our talks,
though you may think I forgot,
so you remember
to restore the balance
before you come back to your lot.
Of course the way is uncertain,
the nondual can never be traced,
just remember to always keep balance
and never stop changing your face."
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 9:36 PM UTC
The long night approaches.
The light grows dim.
Everyone is going silent,
except one little kid
- the voice I carry in my eye,
it screams in my ears
as it lets out a cry:
"I owe no one my silence!
I owe no one my words!
If I am made out of violence
- then those are my hertz!
I don't care if it's violent!
I don't care if it hurts!
My tune is like a violin
awaiting its orchestral turn!"
And so, as I've learned,
I give her the reigns,
and as the tune reverberates
all throughout the space,
once again, Wisdom true,
speaks as she reveals her face:
"Every frequency has its place.
Every indecency has its grace.
Every disruption, an escape,
every destruction elevates.
The art of darkness
was gifted to the brave
so that shadows they may seek,
the art of light to those that cherish the vulnerable and frayed,
so that they may heal the weak.
The art of both, a rarer gift,
was gifted but to a few,
to those that can hold
a stance both soft and bold,
to let both dark and light through.
Those were left guiding the gates
between what was real and true,
where black holes explode,
where dualities corrode,
where cold meets hot,
and old meets new."
I listened to her words
and had a little chuckle,
I know what she means
and I know it brings trouble.
But still I work
and wait by those gates
to once again discuss fate with Time,
who lately was wearing
something quite scary
- the mask of Death in his prime.
And then he came to me one night,
admiring my work,
knowing I will again ask about its worth,
and the rest... all of it he's heard,
the many times I've tossed and turned,
how the wheel burned,
how the knowledge got obscured,
but he knows
none of that is important, no,
only the wish
I made many moons ago...
the one to find my way back home.
He speaks with a tone that's firm:
"Both light and shadow
need be tilled like the earth.
Both joy and sorrow
need be transformed within the hearth.
Neither darkness
nor lightning
need scare the nondual away.
Neither love
nor hate
can pull the boundless astray.
You are right where you need be.
I remember our talks,
though you may think I forgot,
so you remember
to restore the balance
before you come back to your lot.
Of course the way is uncertain,
the nondual can never be traced,
just remember to always keep balance
and never stop changing your face."
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