Poem: The Path by Claudette Dean
There is an ancient mystic
Who whispers to the wind.
She shares a special secret
With all who wish to hear,
Of a sacred path well travelled,
So distant yet so near.
It starts off wide and wandering
With lessons there to learn,
But further down gets narrow
There’s a point of no return.
On one side lie green meadows,
With sunlight all the day.
The other only shadows,
The dark side some may say.
It’s called the middle way by some,
All mystics will agree;
It leads you to a place you’ll find
That you’ve been searching for.
A place where all souls integrate
Who’ve walked that narrow line;
A place where many become One
A place of LOVE divine.
March 14, 2012