Two worlds collide in their unconscious thirst for change

Me?

I remain in the middle—my soul stuck between them, stubbornly immutable, resolutely unmoved

Nonchalant about their odd thirst, my fountain overflows with a stoic acceptance of whatever happens

I effortlessly give way to The Tao, my shepherd, not wanting, not yearning—fighting for nothing, thankful for everything

Simply:

Chopping wood, carrying water; sipping some.