The Middle Way

When you sail on an ocean of words my friend,
Float up into that thunderstorm
And when you're marooned in that void,
Feel, feel that strange soothing calm.

Ask not the wind where he goes my friend,
And ask not the flower for whom she lives
Just feel, feel his fingers caress your cheeks,
And watch her as she blooms and fades away.

Ask not the river from where she comes my friend,
And ask not a man his name
Just watch her as she twists and turns and flows,
And see, see his reflection in the mirror of your veins.

Ask not the sun why he shines my friend,
And ask not the moon why she waxes and wanes
Just let him warm your troubled soul,
And let her play her intriguing games.

When you walk among the mountains my friend,
Ask me not their names
Speak not of their glory,
But just see, see that they rise from the plains.

Tears now flow down my cheeks my friend
And above me is the sun.
Around me is emptiness and form
But in the middle way they are one.

Vinod Subramaniam
9th December 1990