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.
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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