Dialectic

We live in movement but dream of repose,
Our will is driven by the need for power.
We dream in verse, take action in plain prose,
Sleep in a cottage but hope for a tower.
At times we hope for crises that excite
Our souls to acts beyond the everyday,
Yet we desire the tranquil to invite
And the golden moment to hold and stay.
Between these poles, diurnal we revolve
Between night's dark and the gleam of sun,
Eager to act, more eager to resolve
Our hopes to deeds before our time is done.
Somehow we make of these desires a life
Where calm and passion coexist in strife.