Balance

There is a balance in everything.

There is a point of stillness

With a tipping point in each direction.

Balance is the resting place.

Move through the tipping point,

In any direction

And rest becomes strain,

A struggle not to fall.

Sometimes it’s good to fall.

Walking is a fall indefinitely postponed, after all,

And the sigh of a breeze moving through leaves

Is the shifting slide of air

Seeking equilibrium.

Likewise, falling in love

Is the shifting slide of two souls

Finding a balance

In the recognition of self in the other.

 

So,

Balance is rest.

Losing balance is progress.

 

Balance is stagnation, too.

Falling can hurt.

 

Too much

Or

Not enough.

 

Find the balance.

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