Butterscotch and Habaneras

Is there any truth, she asks,
To that ancient dictum
That all life’s good
And so it’s bad
Must be countered without exception?

Let’s look closely, he answers
At the rhetoric that is life
At the oxymoron
Which savors such bitter sweetness
In such irregular patterns.

Were it not Shakespeare
Commencing by Romeo’s tongue
Who weighed feathers of lead
And sick health amid the cold fires
Of heavy lightness?

No man nor woman nor child of the Earth
Might cope with solitude
Lest the deafening silence
That deceives as peace
Erupt in pandemonium

But why, she puts,
Must love be pursued by hate
And light, darkness?
Why, she demands, must sadness dampen joy
And failure shadow success?

My darling, he whispers
All virtue is flouted by depravity
Behind the Advocate creeps the Adversary
And to live is to die
For the moment of one’s first breath
Is the onset of the journey
That leads to his last

Even the Saints bore their lots, he continues
As willing victims
Suffering ecstatic agony
In their forward retreat from this life
Into the next

You see, love dulls hate
And sadness, joy
The sweet must be soured
In order that the honey
Be appreciated for its merit

For one cannot truly savor the silky goodness
Of the butterscotch which melts in his left cheek
Unless he first accepts the mordant
Habaneras which burn in his right
To know One is to grasp the other
And to grasp the other
Is to appreciate the One.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem