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The Razor's Edge


The human being (which is you and me) walks a very thin line

A razor’s edge

We walk between

Meaning and meaninglessness

Significance and irrelevance

The great something and the perfect nothing

The poles of intense opposites are our habitat

There is something liberating, even uplifting, about this strange middle path

This path of the human being

No other creature seems to walk here

So readily able are we to focus attention in one direction or another

So capable of seeing both sides of the same cloud

The puffy brilliance and the violent storm

The face that isn’t there and the tiny droplets of water that are

That which signals the end of a parade and the birth of a flower

Why is this strange confluence?

What is it that gives such a godlike power to the weakest of creatures?

I can’t help but wonder

In the twilight of my years

As dusk is so much more imminent than dawn

There is an engaging, wondrous mystery

An intoxicating fascination that cannot be quenched

The human being, you and me, seemed destined

Even well suited for the thinnest of balance beams

Clearly it is here that we are meant to stand

Destined to live the holy, middle way

The razor’s edge of Buddhas and madmen

Perhaps this is the pillow for the soul

The place where not even deities and divas dare lay

The last place

The final place

The place of ultimate resolution

The place where gods and devils recognize themselves at last

In the mirror of the human face

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