A poetic meditation on two internal 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. It is a reflection on the discernment required to perceive structural nuances in human nature and the wisdom of choosing where to anchor the soul.

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.