The Middle Way
The road not ending is growing wider.
Spreading all the way down and up again.
Hot shovel digging and soaring lighter.
Walking the straight line beginning amend.
Each moment new and keep myself steady.
No time elapsing and hold my heart true.
The light not too bright; dark never ready.
Nor to warm or too cold; middle ensues.
Not craving the escape of elixirs,
or overindulge a ravenous girth,
nor snatch symbols of sensual fixers.
This road traveling is all that is worth.
No hunting the material abound.
Hands touching the sky, toes grasping the ground.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
