The See Saw Of Life! Poem by Sumita Jetley

In a city lit by dreams so high,
Where towers touch the endless sky,
Lived a man named Amit, strong and bright,
But his heart danced with shadows and light.

One day came news, oh, a moment so sweet,
A promotion, a victory—his goals complete.
He felt the rush, the thrill, the joy,
Like a child unwrapping his favorite toy.

But as the night fell, and stars took flight,
A hollow crept in, oh, a whisper so slight.
"What's this? " he wondered, "Why this empty sway,
When life has granted me such a glorious day? "

The highs of life, they rise so tall,
But with every peak, there's a chance to fall.
His heart felt heavy, the thrill had gone,
Like a wave pulled back when the tide moves on.

A few days later, the tides did shift,
With responsibilities that felt like a rift.
The weight of work, the long, long nights,
Turned his joy into a battle, a fight.

He sat alone in his posh, plush room,
Plants whispered secrets, the night in bloom.
The French windows open, the city below,
Lights twinkled softly, as the world lay low.

In that silence, a thought did grow,
A seesaw image began to flow.
His childhood playground, the rise and fall,
The ups and downs, he remembered it all.

Pleasure and pain—two kids on a swing,
Each one takes turns, it's how they cling.
When one soars up, the other falls down,
And so, they move, no king, no crown.

He saw it now, clear as the moon's glow,
The mind seeks balance, a rhythm slow.
In moments of joy, it prepares for the dip,
And after pain, it offers a gentle grip.

Amit smiled, his heart felt light,
The mind's secret now seemed so right.
No need to chase the highs with greed,
Or fear the lows that make the soul bleed.

For life's true peace lies in the calm,
In the space between, like a healing balm.
Where nothing is too high, nor too low,
Just a steady rhythm, a gentle flow.

He took his tea, warm in his hand,
Gazing out at the city, oh, so grand.
He felt the balance, the quiet grace,
In that moment, he found his place.

And so, he learned the seesaw's art,
To accept both joy and pain in his heart.
For neither would stay, they'd come and go,
But the peace in between—that's what he'd know.