In the black sky, he glows like a falling star.
While on the ground, she stares from afar.
He flickers like fountains of meteor shower
And she can't help but to devour.
The clouds gave way upon his presence
And she was bedazzled by his luminescence.
His sparks are like shimmering asteroids;
Which, one by one, she desperately avoids.
The girl is Yin, and the boy is Yang.
When they collide, it'd be the Theory of Big Bang.
She's the color black, he's the color white.
They can't be combined, just like day and night.
Yin couldn't be heard even with her voice so loud.
While Yang, even the planets are proud.
He's the sun, she's the moon.
When they intertwine, it'd be the start of doom.
But alas, the constellations have connected
These two heavenly bodies by a thread.
There was no need for a North Star to be of guide,
For their lines are meant to coincide.
Neither did a black hole,
Nor did a nuclear fission divide them sole.
Just like saturn and its rings;
When he spins, she clings.
They're both from different galaxies,
With the same discrepancies.
Yet, they are in one circle in cosmology.
This is Yin and Yang's story.
#10, 2011
