Belinda Subraman Poems

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At the edge of winter
in crisp early March
a dull thud of numbness
delays joy and sadness
that will make us weep.

In the flow of life
every aspect bears its opposite.
Between extremes
there’s the balance of peace
or peace
in the realization of balance.

With the warm blanket of knowledge
is the freezing cold of truth.
We are greeted with tears
as we come into this world
and tears as we go out.

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