Reflections on my morning commute

[tylik]

The way that can be parked in,
The way that can be used as a turn lane,
The way that can obstructed by recycling bins,
These things are not the true and eternal way.

The way may pass through traffic,
But traffic is not the way.
There may be obstacles,
The way flows around them like a river.
The way is smooth and unending,
The world twists and turns around it.

The ordinary one hears of the way,
Consults a cap and wonders if he can find his pump.
The petty one hears of they way and shouts
"100 points for the one in green!"
The master has already strapped on his helmet and gone.
The foolish one drives past riders on the way,
And laughs at their exertions.
Without laughter, the way would not be what it is.


[In theory, I have bike lanes along almost the whole length of my commute...]