A poetic meditation on two inner currents: one dazzling yet fragile, like a crystal that fractures under pressure; the other steady and guiding, like a star or a rock that sustains. A reflection on learning where to anchor the soul. There are those who can tear your soul apart, devastate with words, and minutes later act as if nothing ever happened. Learn to perceive the nuances, so as not to lose yourself.

Two Currents

There are lights that dazzle,
and lights that guide.

A crystal of extreme hardness,
ranked 9 on the Mohs scale,
pure form of corundum,
in hues beyond the blue,
rises as a rare jewel,
displaying its polished face to the sun.
It demands eyes to behold it,
applause to sustain its shine.
Yet beneath its apparent strength
lie hidden fractures,
a gem that trembles
at the slightest opposing view.

It dances in spirals of storm,
now exalted, now shattered,
building palaces of fantasy
that dissolve at a touch.
It seeks arms that will not leave,
yet recoils at the force of embrace.
It is a restless sea:
in one breath, tenderness;
in the next, shipwreck.

This is the pattern of vertigo:
a brilliance that consumes,
a heart that loves and wounds in turn,
forever afraid of being left alone
in its own empty night.

But there is also the quiet light of promise:
it asks for no applause,
it does not fear silence.
It is a constant star,
burning without excess,
guiding steps through the dark.
It is a river that never runs dry,
a spring that gives without measure,
a rock unmoved, sustaining all.

The heart that learns the difference
knows that not every gleam is guidance,
not every passion a harbor.
Some lights are tempests,
others are beacons.
And wisdom is the choice
of where to anchor the soul.