Marking the spring equinox
Daylight tips the dark in half
As a boat in torrid waters rocks
the egg stands upright in hoax
One of the miracles of life
is seeing things in black or white
Where lines are not blurred
and distinctions are concurred
An illusion of a rightful balance
comes with a series of concussions
Setting off the slight notion
that there could be no motion
Change is permanent as they say
in spite of the words we pray
Every action has a reaction
but for some its just a faction
Who see things in technicolor
piling on drama and wonder
Two hands are not needed to clap
Besides the analogy is downright crap
To break a wall the mighty sword
strikes straight down with every word
Set in the extremities of life
are genius interventions derived
But moderation keeps you going
all along the Buddha’s way of adoring
Lighter angels cannot become ignoring
of the mighty demons that lay snoring
Only a wholesome tad of retribution
could instill a worthy restitution
Of all the constant stirring revolutions
in the head, the heart, the confusion
There is a stretch of imagination
that pulls away from stark indignation
To set in balance a tender notion
that dis-solutes a gory concoction
For though earth pulled in all directions
offers two rare glimpses of equations
That cause a standstill of emotions
marking small and slight aberrations
The scientists call it an equinox
the psychologists call it a paradox
For there can be no plausible equals
in a world full of divergent peoples
While one looms over the other
the spitfire burns out the tethers
That said for the complexities
and all the other exponents of cities
But for all other earthly splendors
Balance is the natural parlance
For there is boundless pleasure
In sighting an equal measure.
Vedasri Siddamsetty 