Unbalanced What once had graceful symmetry descends into chaos Leaving an anxious moment in between. In this moment one can choose to reflect Upon the perfect union of form and motion The incomprehensible understanding finally reached, finally cared about Or one can choose to be the unbalanced And be a perfect union of form and motion Understand and comprehend the true nature of balance Finally having unbalance to compare it to For a moment And then, be destroyed, Or one could choose to act To reach out and imperfectly restore perfection, Only to fail and face the accusaton of the debris Or to succeed, chance destiny, And therefore become god by one's own definition Or one could spend that precious, vital moment Pondering: Do I have the right to ponder?
Tom Bratchford
