Fluctuational Dialectics

In front of my shelter

A frequent exposure to towering rock-like structures,

huge buildings of human ambition.

A space encapsulating trees,

yet stripped of diversity,

a plantation of order without wildness.

A liberated mind

 within perfect homogeneity.

Spaces shaped for human comfort,

but pigeons turn them into their careless pit.

As random as human emotion,

the activity of nature

strives always toward equilibrium in diversity.

Light, on its way to rescue human curiosity,

serves its dialectical purpose in life.

The diffused clouds above—

they seem walkable from the summit,

yet dissolve into illusion.

And I wonder:

is it self-assembly that separates

the living from the non-living?