Balance
The universe thrives
Exists

A scale level
On the mountain peak
Tip it one way
Reality shatters.

The light and dark
The ups and downs
We cut so someone can heal

America sleeps
China wakes
The sun gives way to the moon

Heartbeats stop
Babies are born
Our tears in the face of their joy

Without out demons
An Angel's wings are never earned
So we balance.

There's nothing magical
About intentional
It's the beneficial
Not the permissible
Don't be mindful
Of the infinitesimal
But watch the frequency
Of every mouthful
The size you choose
For your morning bowl full
What you put
On a wholemeal bagel
And then you'll find you'll
Be more healthful.

(And I can see you
Get all emotional
And inspirational
About the preferable
honey-based
BBQ
Sauce.)

You'll have your share of darkness
with as much light you get,
for every moon has to rise
and every sun has to set.

Still with stoic calm,       you keep the balance,
as moods move through you     like waves through water.

Tightrope
Living on the line
Plummet
Noose of twine.

“several wolves were introduced...
...rejuvenating vegetation
with the deer henceforth
avoiding those areas”

and now behold sprouting grass
and blossoming branches;
makes you think whether balance
always leans on a quota of violence

I start seeing in my park
the flora is suffering
I’ve let in too many deer
and they’ll eat everything offered;
they know not when to stop
leaving the trees bare *****,
chewing the bark
just because it is there.
And I'm sorry my deer
but our gardens could use some wolves
for the good of the land
(but we’re) learning the hard way,
seeing the truth in
“Too much of a good thing cannot be a good thing”

I spent months
setting them up

those emotional "dominoes"

black rectangles on end
balanced just so
white spots spelling out

ego
    emotions
                soul

just a sharp stroke
of a tongue
on one corner
and
they fall...
   and fall...
      and fall...

they lay
      scattered
                  and
                     chaotic

on their backs
          like beetles
unable to turn

their undersides exposed
                             and vulnerable

how many times
            can they be realigned

how many times
              before the spots erode

how many times
               before it's empty inside

like dead beetles'
                       dry, brittle shells?

Life has a way of giving you exactly what you need to grow. Blessings in disguise. Sometimes you need to completely breakdown to build yourself up again. Sometimes you need to waste your time to realize how precious time is. Sometimes you have to be cold so you can warm up again. Life is a balance of highs and lows. It comes and goes.

I stare into the clouded night sky
That shines the light of the sun on the clouds
Via the moon that orbits the Earth
Continuously
Round and round
Held in by
Just the right amount
Of gravity.
Nothing more,
Nothing less.

I am the moon
That moves on continuously
Seeking something more
But spending time frivolously.
Not moving forward
Or backward
But
Riding a course almost effortlessly
Weighing the balance of my course
On the moment and not
Resisting the force of the Earth.

I am the Earth
Attracting nothing useful to myself
Losing my health exponentially
My skin scars grow deeper
With the pollution of the bacteria
Ever multiplying
Not even their deaths diminishing
The pain of my barrier being torn
By my internal conflict
And I...
Just float.
Orbiting a greater body than I.

I am the sun
Feeling not the heat that is embedded
Within me
I question
If I can really feel anymore
Even though my skin is warm
My core still fusing,
Beating,
Emotions clashing within me
So much so that my body
Distances its core
From the surface
And I forget to worry
If...
I expand so far
And then collapse
Into myself
And become a void
******* in emotions
Numbly
Because I lost what was left of me.

I am the universe
Full of mystery
Full of dark shades
And galaxies plenty
Many planets,
Stars and satellites
That whirl and whirl
Into sight
Or disappear in a black hole.
I am the universe
That continues to expand
Stretching
Straining
Out of hand
Continuing on
Because I can
And this universe
This body is not mine
I cannot end it
At least,
It has not expended enough
To implode
Nor do I want it to
By the will that subconsciously
Remains within me.