20
How do we balance material needs with spiritual aspirations?
THE MIDDLE PATH
I know the clink of silver spoons,
Grandma's mansion beside the lake,
My Coke from Waterford crystal,
All her paintings were real, not fake.
I've walked with empty pockets,
Served meals of cabbage and bread.
Still, the stars lit the night sky,
And still my family was fed.
The middle path is narrow,
But it’s where the soul can dance,
Between the grasping hand of “more”
And the clenched fist of “no chance.”
What I dream, I may someday hold.
What I own, I put to good use.
But what things own my heart and soul
Unmercifully, I must cut loose.
The things I seek are not the prize,
But tools that help the soul arise.
They shape the path, but not the peak
The quest is not the gold we seek.