POEM: The Tao of Being

Dance that mad head-on collision
into that which spins like a top.
Let it roll; but don’t make it stop.
Cleave, but don’t create the division.

Don’t strike out for fields, Elysian;
find Eden in being unaffected.
Be none; be all, & thus connected.

Sometimes, there’s might in precision,
but, sometimes, it kills through indecision.

Heed the Way more than the result.

No one ‘s converted by insult.
Stifle the urge to spew derision.

Moral superiority won’t keep you warm;
it’s just illusion of another form.

 

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