"Two sides" explores the idea of contrasts we find in life, ones that are obvious and important somehow and add meaning. It looks at the notion that we often find ourselves at edges or extremes and are tempted to compare our situation to the opposite. It looks at relationships whatever be their nature and need, it looks at the incomplete nature of things that make them unique in their own way. Looking at these subtle realities are reminders of a place less familiar sometimes and yet they are warm when you need them to be. The extreme nature of things often pushes us to believe that we share either of the bookends, that from where we are we get to define the opposite. I chose to write this to look at a subtle interlude between the two points and in the hope to capture both these sides.
Two Sides
Two sides of an endless ocean, we never meet
We never exchange letters or words or even greet
You rise as I fall as waves & tides on the other side
Yet somehow you manage to cradle me to sleep
These slow waves they keep coming again & again
The are things we write about from places of pleasure & pain
Two end of a camera reel, negatives & postives at best
We develop from nothing into a moment captured in rest
Two ends of a tall mountain range and peak
You are the top and I am the foothill that you seek
You stare at me when you find your own quiet
While I look up to you surrounded as clouds fly by
Two pages of the book, one beginning and other the end
One undisclosed and the other is the first thing you read
So I curiously stare sometimes, and take a peek
For we are all but bound to look for all of the things we seek
Two points of the day somewhere stuck in time
Like the morning and evening golden hour in perfect rhyme
Painted pictures among colors that no longer fight
You lay yourself to bed as I find the perfect sunrise.
Two Sides
Two sides of an endless ocean, we never meet
We never exchange letters or words or even greet
You rise as I fall as waves & tides on the other side
Yet somehow you manage to cradle me to sleep
These slow waves they keep coming again & again
The are things we write about from places of pleasure & pain
Two end of a camera reel, negatives & postives at best
We develop from nothing into a moment captured in rest
Two ends of a tall mountain range and peak
You are the top and I am the foothill that you seek
You stare at me when you find your own quiet
While I look up to you surrounded as clouds fly by
Two pages of the book, one beginning and other the end
One undisclosed and the other is the first thing you read
So I curiously stare sometimes, and take a peek
For we are all but bound to look for all of the things we seek
Two points of the day somewhere stuck in time
Like the morning and evening golden hour in perfect rhyme
Painted pictures among colors that no longer fight
You lay yourself to bed as I find the perfect sunrise.
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