The pond does not hasten. It waits.

Morning spills across the vast horizon, emitting the world with warmth. Light collides with the water, and koi glide beneath the surface, their scales flickering gold and obscured black, shifting as if the water itself appreciates the cadence of day and night.

The sun cannot call for the sky forever, nor can the moon stay eternally; they share the heavens, an immensely genuine silent compromise that teaches the world patience. Shadows assemble where the sun cannot reach, and yet they are not enemies: they exist merely to make the light visible.

Life is exceedingly the same. Days rise when the sun touches your shoulders, you feel immensely inexorable, unbroken, almost luminous. Thereupon come the nights, long, and quiet, when even your own heartbeat seems eminently loud, when the moon hangs distant and the world feels hollow. But just as the moon must capitulate to the dawn, so too will your trials pass.

The city, the classroom, the room you call your own: they convey the very same lesson: balance lives in the discord between loss and hope. It is beyond one’s power to know the sun without the chill of dusk, nor triumph without the ache of struggle. Life arrives in cosmic contrasts, in soft light over shadow, in koi circling black gold, yin, and yang, sun and moon. Ebullience and despondency swim together, characterizing each other, neither permanent, neither complete, yet their dance gives every moment its meaning.

Amidst these quiet moments, when lassitude or exhaustion presses heavy, remember: darkness is not the enemy. It is the frame for light, the soil where resilience roots. You breathe, you wait, you rise, as the sun naturally breaks through. When the night draws close, the moon offers rest and silver calm. Balance endures. You endure. And life moves on, still circling, still shimmering, and so can you.

My dear reader, remember this: even in shadow, there is light.

I

Even shadows lean upon the newborn day,
Weaved with light as yin with accommodating yang,
Like twin koi circling in their serene sway,
They enlighten that tranquility and ache share the same tongue.
For each ache that fades the gleaming skies,
Nurtures compassionate strength where silent courage lies.

II
So heed this veracity, thou wanderer of the storm,
That none may glance the dawn who shunned the night;
For koi flourish brightest where dark is warm,
And hearts are sharpened by trials held tight.
Thus every shadow longing for the sun,
Shall bless thee whole when day and soul are one.

The Frontman