Balance

So much in our lives hangs in the balance,

See how loudly we cry when our dreams die,

When what’s given to us, is taken away,

It is ours, we have always believed,

In that holding tight, in that clenched fist, in the angry tears,

Is the great defeat.

For many hours, days, afterwards, like pinpricks their thoughts make us weep,

Great men, little women, old men, old women,

All their lives they try to balance, to put one foot in front of the other,

To be the winning rabbit in the bewildering maze,

Yet, who can win, who can balance?

On one leg, only the lord can dance,

Like seasons, we are living cycles, moving towards the next preordained cycle,

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter,

In circles we run, foolishly wanting to balance on one foot.

The Song of the Sufi Masroof