Paradox

I, we, or humankind
Perhaps a fleeting form of contradiction

Touch the blazing sun
And recall years of cold, biting wind
Wish for gloomy, indifferent rains
Wash the mottled window
Car in jungle, speeding

In barren, fading light
Or in the thick of viscous dark
Crave again that hazy glow
Hope it’s not too dazzling
Yet bright enough to be hope
Light and shadow entwine
Under naked eyes

In the wild, one always starts to run
Hope just as they fall upon green
Time can pause for a quarter-hour
Then grand orchestral music swells

Feet planted on the origin point
Dream the earth revolves around
Roll distant sceneries by
Dissolve into particle waves
Stand still within the surge

Fragile yet tenacious nerves
Always pulled into contradictory forms

We always tame restless factors
Trying, with illusions of calm
To pacify organic molecules under skin

Yet whether asleep or awake
Will discover this contradiction’s origin

No superpowers, yet wish to wield a spell.

Aug 1, 2024
While being penetrated by sunlight, I long for getting soaked by rain; in quiet time, I want to headlong fall into self-rotating earth—a kind of contradictory pulling feeling.

Bustling Decaying, Hong Kong