The Jigsaw Of Life

With day comes a splatter of golden,

orange unfurls the heaven.

The fervour of heat we wear on the skin,

The fret confirms its presence.

With night comes an aura of horror,

A shadow, a phantom? Dark and quietus.

For many, it alludes two poles of the world, so brush, so discrete.

For me, the "shadow" shadows the golden, the love that will never cease.

Golden, the seeds captivate the waves of the living, oh what trees of life!

Beams of white, my skin absorbs and pacifies my scars in lows and highs.

One upsurges as the other retreats;

One heats a life as the other cools a mind's strife.

Mind you, the poles are diametric;

The line of life, so giving, so compliant.

I reckon they aren't antonyms, 

just two pieces in the jigsaw of life.