Contrasts of Life



Whenever I see things flowing, flourishing, I smile.
Stagnation, being stuck, troubles me.

How can a stone, fixed to the ground, move millions?
Inspire music and art?

Some boulders stagnate, yet seem to throb with life,
Only the sculptor and one attuned to form and space
Can sense the vitality within.

Then there are turbulent things, moving, evoking fear,
Reminding us of life's uncertainties.

Their language is difficult to interpret,
Not a carefree song sung on the go.

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