I love my home and I love my life.
I also love my struggles and my strife
because only friction can sharpen knives.
I love the dark and I love the light.
I love the day and I love the night,
but best of all I love twilight.
I love the rain and thunderstorms.
I love when the sun makes me warm,
and with both together rainbows form.
The sun comes up and then goes down,
but really we’re the ones spinning round.
Differences disappear when we slow down.
There is sunrise and there is sunset,
but you can catch them both in a turbojet.
Differences disappear when you’re fastest.
I love small deaths and I love big life.
I love vastness and the finite.
They hold each other like man and wife
dancing together on the edge of a knife.
Like many of my posts, this piece plays with the paradox of duality. It starts by expressing the common idea that we need the bad to appreciate the good, or, truer still, that a change in perspective can change what was perceived as bad into good; that even the worst day of your life carries benefit.
The poem pushes this further as it moves from a simple good/bad dichotomy to an analysis including all things. It concludes that difference is largely a choice of scope, and that a broad enough perspective will reveal all things to be integral parts of the same whole. This realization changes what appeared to be conflict into a beautiful dance between life and death on the stage of the infinite absolute.
Some were confused by the two stanzas about sunrise and sunset, and particularly the line saying that speed dissolves difference. Each stanza in itself says that a change in perspective (slowing down or speeding up) can reveal that seeming opposites (sunrise and sunset) are actually illusions. Taken together the two stanzas also reveal this same truth by showing that fast/slow is another illusion of perspective.