Leaves go
Where the wind blows,
Where the breath of the Divine
Carries them.
To be One with Life itself
All that is required
Is that we have no anchors
And dance freely.
There is no dancer,
There is only the dance,
All are caught in
The Breath that arises
Out of the Stillness Of Being.
Sometimes two or more leaves
Are blown together
Down the same street
In the same direction
For a time together
And then they part.
It is possible that they will meet again
When the same breeze that guides them
And seperates them
Joins them in its swirling.
This is how we meet and depart in Life
We are caught up in the flow
Of the Divines breath.
To be let go in this
Is to be rested in the hands
Of the Divine.
Going, coming,
Observing without interfering,
Just Being,
Knowing all the while
That All is the will of existence
And ultimately ones own.