Wednesday, September 29, 2004

The Middle Path

Carefully I tread,
lest one sharp pebble
pierce through
my travel-weary feet.

I look ahead to map
the turns and twists,
the choices to make,
against my
inner positioning system.

I stream
around the boulders,
and flow over the rocks,
gently gurgling over
pretty flowers that line
my way.

No floods, no furies,
no raging tempests.
A few rainy days,
knowing the sun will shine again.

Down in the murky depths,
a tiny whirlpool
swirls in
mad, unrestrained passion,
questioning such serenity.




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