Complexity, its 

compliqué
Complexity is defined as the differences in us,
The one’s that signify the intricacies we preach of.
What we babble about and spend all our time,
The topics and issues that I may call mine.

Unfortunately, or fortunately to the optimist,

These interests that make me complex often mix.
Pacing back and forth from polar sides,
I walk between the two homes where my passions reside.

There is the house of science and research,

Where the peduncle that bears my favorite work holds perch.
On opposite sides of a valley,
The house of art stands mocking the other side gallantly.

The wind takes me to a castle-esque building,

Covered in ivy with large, Victorian windows, all anxiety goes dwindling.
I open a large oak door,
To see bookshelves filled with different media from ceiling to floor.

I peruse the hallways filled with novels,

Walking slowly, taking it in, I become docile.
Under this sense of docility, I reach out my hand to a book,
I open it to see stanzas upon stanzas of poetry, to the top of the page I look.

Taken aback I read the title, Sonnet ‘27’,

Following the flowing verses, the notable Shakespeare gives me a leaven.
Eyes wide open I meander to a different section,
One with a clicking projector making a confession.
I look to see the film playing ahead
And am reminded of the beautiful works I’ve seen, the many tears I have shed.
The flashing colors and song flicker,
My favorite film, Les Parapluies de Cherbourg plays, my heart beats quicker.

The door opens allowing a stream of white light,

The interruption pushes me back to awareness and blinds my sight.
I squint to catch the culprit at hand,
But all I hear is the shuffling of running feet and the once ajar door slammed.

Curiosity overcomes me and I begin to follow,

Running through the hallways lined with Raushenburgs, Warhols, Mattises, and Picasos.
I push open the heavy oak door,
And see a shadow running across the glen of allure.

The figure runs towards the house made of glass,

Filled with knowledge on science, technology, engineering and mathematics.
Nearing the building a familiar sense of excitement grows,
I imagine reading the journals and findings, thinking of the many answers they know.

Inside, rather than wooden shelves and candle-lit rooms,

This house is modern, a contemporary environment assumes.
I stop for a moment, bewildered by the high-tech screens,
Catch my breath and notice a shadowy figure sitting punching numbers into various machines.

Looking over the figures shoulder, I see scans of the neurological system,
Being analyzed and referenced by them.
Graphs and charts clutter the floor and desk,
A mania unlike any other, I know the feeling of understanding settling into check.
Conversation ensues with the mysterious being,
I find myself becoming interested in their work, constant nods occur, signifying our agreeing.
I sit down and envelope myself in this domain,
The sun shines on my face, a warm feeling of acceptance welcomes me to into this terrain.

Hours pass by as we work through the night,

Despite the fervor experienced in the previous quarters, this proved to be a delight.
Connections were made, between data and former research,
I pat my new friend on the back, thanking them for bringing me to this scientific church.

Goodbyes are made at the tall glass door,

I say so long to my friend with whom I have much more information to explore.
As I hold the door and wave my hand,
My friend walks down the carefully pathed land.

When they turn right on the foot path to head home.

A view of a familiar building across the way is uncovered, housing a beautiful stain glass dome.
Its flower garden illuminated in the night,
I am once again drawn toward it as I hear soft European jazz and see the glow of candlelight.

I leave my castle of science and glass,

Walking towards my mansion of art, through the tall grass.
How will I ever pick a home to dwell in?
Unfortunately, or fortunately to the optimist, this is where my complexity will begin.