That old zen saw

That old zen saw                                                                                               

Ride your horse, goes that old zen saw,

along the edge of a sword, observing calmly –

to one side, the outer forms;

to the other, the inner realm.

Ride between, grasping neither, clean

as a whistle, not a hoof print left behind.

Bodhidharma counseled outside –

no engagement, no entanglements,

no arousal or intervention.

Inside – no indulgences, no rejection,

no denial or shying away.  Settle down

where there is no settling down –

in the saddle of the horse,

along the sword’s edge; ride on,

a part of neither, caught not in the dust-mire

of the outer nor the seductive fantasy of the inner.

O child of God, you are, apparently,

the whole of both and more.