A Delicate Balance

The embers of the dying fire glow red beneath the ash
A curl of smoke wafts through the air, caress the midnight sun
A gentle breeze stirs the leaves, the sleeping night awakes
Glowing eyes materialize, floating in the mist

A shadow figure at the door, I haven't seen before
I take a shot of courage, ask Mysterioso
Who, when, why, what for, these things I want to know
Who the heck are you?

Your humble servant of low import, purveyor of finest mead
An accidental vagabond, I have everything you need ...

The exponential dichotomy of stochastic variations
elucidates the transmogrified state of the
deterministic existential nihilist ideal

Like yin and yang in an intricate dance
Find order in chaos & chance
Light in the darkest mind
The pure in the corrupt
The soul of the skeptic
Nature in man
The nature of man

My fast talking apparition fades into the cold stone
A mystic dream or cosmic meme, I think I'll never know
Life unfolds at a whim, fortune smiles on those who find
A delicate balance in all things

Before he left, I bought some mead with some gold coins

copyright ©2014 T. Atkinson