Notes of a Sunday Metaphysician

The nothing between oppositions
Seems everything
Because either side can’t live
With or without their invisible twin.

Some pierce the oppositions
By conflating them,
Some try some elegant path
In between, evading them,
Some move from side to side
Like migrant, hungry birds
Some build and re-build walls
On the side they stay on
Some try to coerce surrender
By force of words or arms
Some call balance the truth
Throwing off the tensions ‘til the essence is lost

But the space between poles
Is impassible.

But still we try the impossible, for a dream –
To be merged without destroying;
To be reborn without dying;
To be at one with all
That churns and yearns for change
While offering none,
Not even the slightest nod
That something is right, or should be,
For all is love and not
Conclusion;
To use the only gift of life,
The freedom of perception,
To assimilate everything
Without needing to know what it is,
Without moving at all…

Still, as they say,
Spirit cannot recognize itself
Without a mirror
So everything is divided up.

We dissolve our two eyes
Into one vision
That, when the eyes are brought together,
Divides in two.