The other day I was sipping tea by my balcony's window,
You know those languid hours, when ideas mostly come and go,
A strong wind swept across the trees, making them howl and bend a little low,
It just left me wondering, what really distinguishes a compassionate presence from just bland ego.
Why is cool such a nice way to be, yet cold is utterly frowned upon,
Why love always feels so warm, but hot is all about temper preferred to be long gone,
Breezes are always so gentle and moving, but winds keep howling in turbulence,
Good memories serve as gentle reminders of hope, yet trauma is reminiscent of a past quite violent.
Morning sunshine inspires us all, yet the afternoon heat scorches us to shreds,
Gentle showers revive us from despair, but violent rains wash away everything in floods.
Extremes and temperance, much like yin and yang,
Prevail through our lives and nature, just like the two parallel riverbanks,
Extremes create and destroy in abundance,
Temperance manages the in-betweens, making for great indulgence,
It is but human nature to always shun pain and yearn for pleasure,
Little do we know that they draw from the same source, they are a part of the same treasure.
