"Life and Natural Life"

The Divide: Life and Natural Life

In the dawn, when light first cracks the sky,

There stirs a breath, a whisper, soft and shy.

Life awakens, stretching wide and free,

A pulse, a heart, a dance of mystery.

But there’s another rhythm, deep and clear,

A different pulse, born of earth and sphere.

Life, we call it, bound by thought and dream,

A fleeting spark, a transient, bright beam.

It bends with time, it shapes with fleeting will,

It rises high, then crashes, soft and still.

It builds in cities, makes a world anew,

But fails to see the morning's gentle hue.

It’s crafted in a mind that seeks to grow,

To conquer lands where wild winds do blow.

It builds and breaks, it rises, falls, and spins,

A story etched in loss and in its sins.

It wears a crown, but seldom sees the roots,

Its path is paved with hopes and distant pursuits.

Yet nature speaks a language old and wise,

Its truth is found in sun, in earth, in skies.

It is the root beneath the tangled vine,

The endless cycle, perfect and divine.

In natural life, there’s no need for design,

For it is free, unchained, and undefined.

The wolf that howls beneath the moonlit night,

The oak that stretches to the sky’s first light.

The quiet stream that flows, it knows its course,

The eagle’s flight, a symbol of its force.

These lives are forged in instinct’s gentle hand,

Their rhythms echo through the boundless land.

Natural life is quiet in its grace,

Its wisdom sown through ages, place by place.

It knows not pride, nor hunger for the crown,

It moves in balance, never looking down.

The ocean’s tide, the forest’s silent plea,

Are testaments to what it means to be free.

Life, in contrast, often turns away,

Blinded by the need to rule the day.

It builds in haste, it craves the future's gleam,

Not pausing to observe a bird’s soft scream.

Its thoughts race fast, its grasp forever wide,

But in that stretch, it cannot turn the tide.

Yet still, within its pulse, a yearning beats,

A need to find the heart of nature’s feats.

For in its race, it hopes to touch the soul,

To seek the answers that will make it whole.

But in this chase, it stumbles, unaware,

That what it seeks is free, beyond compare.

Natural life, it does not strive to climb,

It holds no need to keep or halt the time.

The tree that grows, though ages may have passed,

Is rooted deeply in the soil so vast.

It does not struggle with a sense of loss,

Nor carry burdens heavy as a cross.

Yet life, with all its ache and endless strive,

Must chase a meaning to keep it alive.

It builds and builds, then watches all things fall,

It dances, but it’s never sure at all.

It seeks to hold the seasons in its hands,

To bend the wind, to rule the distant lands.

But nature, in its silence, whispers true,

That life is found in all that grows anew.

It tells of cycles, endless, free from fear,

Of stars that fade, and those that reappear.

It shows the beauty in the simple path,

In every leaf, in every stream that laughs.

The difference is a tale of heart and soul,

One seeks to rise, the other to be whole.

One dreams of skies, the other lives the ground,

One builds with hands, the other with the sound

Of wind and rain, of earth beneath its feet,

Of roots that grasp, of life that feels complete.

And so we see, between these worlds we tread,

That one is born of dreams, the other led

By instinct’s hand, a force beyond our ken,

That whispers secrets to both beast and men.

For though we walk with minds that yearn and fight,

We’ll never grasp the fullness of the night.

Yet there’s a place where life and nature meet,

In moments still, where hearts and earth beat sweet.

Perhaps in stillness, we may come to know

That both are part of life’s eternal flow.

And in their dance, we find a timeless truth:

To live is not to rule, but simply to be.