Eleven bulbs stand stationary side by side.
Eleven simple bulbs.
To the untrained eye they appear useless,
Good-for-nothing,
Futile,
Yet the power within them surpasses all expectations.
Like light bulbs in darkness, we humans come together just as soon as the world is about to fall apart,
Hands of all colours and genders linking together like chains, reminding ourselves of freedom and the power of, Love.
And sometimes,
This light,
It’s dim.
Almost not even recognisable.
Until a simple bulb is lifted,
And the darkness suddenly becomes alight with hopes and ambition and emotion.
This bulb, this single bulb collides with its neighbour,
Sharing once-untold secrets and passing on emotions.
Empathy, anger, happiness,
It's as if the bulbs are alive themselves.
And this bulb, this single bulb which appeared to be of no value,
Has started a chemical reaction of emotions that link us all together.
Every single one of us.
And suddenly race, age and gender are meaningless.
And as the current passes through the remaining nine bulbs,
That empathy and happiness turns into envy,
A bad type of envy,
And this negative kind of love surrounds us all the time, encompassing itself around humanity like the ocean does the earth,
Leaving islands of empathy and understanding,
No matter how hard its shores teases it with slow kisses and promises of better.
This loop of greatness and terror circulates us all like endless currents sent to our hearts to keep us alive.
“To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction.”
You're not just hurting me,
You're hurting us all.
Stop it.
The negativity flows through the veins of a pending mother,
And her newborn is born with the blood of a pessimist,
And the Cradle that Newton created out of curiosity, ambition,
Becomes a bed of nails for the pessimistic newborn.
Energy is a force to be reckoned with.
Powerful energy that passes from a mother and her newborn as she cradles,
A mighty gust of love and strain that passes through generations unnoticed.
There’s a positive kind of love that entangles the minds of mankind together, regardless of where we are, like a sort of charity, and whether we are aware or not,
We are each other’s heroes.
"There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life."
There is no darkness, either. We're just momentarily blind, as that current passes through all of us,
Passes through those nine bulbs,
And we wait patiently for either side to be lit,
So we can see once again.
A ying-yang of spirits in our souls like Adam and Eve still live within us,
The apple of envy is never too far out of reach.
But this, this is why we are better than angels and we are better than demons,
This perfect harmony of good and bad is why I go to sleep angry at the world and wake up pitying it.
‘We are better than this,’ I whisper to myself some days,
Wondering how long it will be before we plunge into dreary existence,
And then I remember,
That there is day and there is night,
There is the moon and the sun,
These forces of nature can never cancel each other out,
And for so long,
Without realising,
They have endured each other in faultless tranquillity,
Rising and setting, creating delicate nights and neighbouring days as we stand beneath it,
Awe-inspired.
