And so Ma’at spoke to me and said:
You have heard it said, and tis true, two ways there are
And not so far the one from the other, brother, but too
Is there the third of which you’ve heard; the less trod
By man of dirt and sod; extremes are an ease to please;
But why walk chalk line of self-destruction, my dear?
Do hear me and see, the path of complete renunciation
Blinds and binds you from liberation as much as running
The cunning way of hell under death-toll bell as well
Of poison ‘ore flows as rot-scented wind blows south
Of Eden… Ah! but both paths strike badly as you hike
To end of life you never really lived, but even pined
For in the depths of your soul, but the hole was lest
Open, bleeding, putrefying and you’ve only been dying
Believing the lying that one or other is more satisfying;
But what of the third way? On this very day you may
Change course, and ne’er to stray, from the Via Media,
On the middle way, the balance-way, to stay to beyond
Any ending on the only unending course ~ the Via Media
Two ways only, or three there be? Three in the Via Media
Via Media … the middle way you may walk without pay;
Via Media, my love dove; the Via Media.
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