Although, cheerfully, I am feeling better, the muse that governs blog posts appears to be lacking.  I hope that will change soon, else I shall have to force it.  Oh, all right, I usually force my blog posts, otherwise shyness would prevent me from posting anything.  Perhaps I’m merely feeling lazy?

In the meantime, I found this old poem I wrote for a class assignment when I was fifteen, and because I feel a desperate need to post something I’ll offer it to you now with the age caveat (otherwise I’d probably be too embarrassed to post this, too).  Its never had a name before, but I suppose Dichotomy is appropriate enough.


Behold the fiery gold of the past day,

Shining rare and bright along the way.

It bursts from soul and fire and spirit free,

Shines brilliantly out for all to see.


There meek and quiet stands its twin

Afraid that just to show itself would be a sin.

Its colors silver grey like the moon

It wishes peace to come all too soon.


The silver struggles violently with its soul

As the moon in silence wanes and becomes full.

The fire crackles far and burns new ground

Uncaring of the people it does astound.


The gold leaves its ashes far behind

It leaves the fertile soil for others in its mind.

The moon spills stars across a velvet sky

Then shrinks below the horizon with a melancholy sigh.


The sun will sink; the moon will rise again,

Rays of light will die and then begin.

Silver beams thrive off the burn of day

Ashes that are often far too grey.


And when the two do thrive side by side,

Here there one insulted; the other cried.

Where molten lava poured from ‘neath the ground

The raindrops pour and transform it to a blackened mound.


But then when ice does freeze one to the bone

The heat dares to save it all alone,

And so one and both do help to save the cause

To discover that without one ‘twould be a loss.


And so despite their troubles and their pains

With each other they would make far more gains.

Their time would be by far the best spent

Adding to one another’s accomplishments.


If everyone all the same would be

The world would pass its life in misery,

And same would be if all their time was spent

Trying not to be different.