Unity of contrasts

The river flows, and in its twisting it breaks and rebuilds itself, a perpetual motion that devours itself and gives birth to time. It is night in the heart of day, light in the depths of darkness, a fire blazing in the silence of the world, and there, where shadows gather, lies the seed of lightning. Everything sings its opposite: death shapes form, life corrodes, only to be reborn. You, who watch, do not seek peace in form but in the wound that breathes, in the broken harmony that unites the diverse. Thus the world exists, in tension, in flame, in the eternal struggle that is a dance, and never peace. And yet, all is one. Neither night nor day, neither peace nor war, but the still flow of a meaning no one can contain.