I’m loving the wind in the last of the leaves,
how it whispers “let go” to limiting things I’ve believed,
and come awake to fresh mercy rolling in with each day.
to the way healing can fill cracks in broken things
and nothing ever stays the same
but hope remains, they drift and sing,
yeah hope, like an anchor,
And in the swirl and changing tide,
there comes flooding in a generous sweep of life,
something like a breeze that sends leaves flying,
and what drifts down from the updraft is unseen
but keenly felt, like snow on bare skin,
and suddenly it’s snowing down a miracle
and nothing has changed exactly,
except for everything
and it’s always surprise,
no matter how often it happens.
I love how it comes,
the shift that sets the fracture so that you’re moving again
in the sweet buoyancy of that thing that I think is named “grace,”
scooped up and carried,
all for the price of a simple, surrendered yes.
No heavy lifting required.
This is wealth.
I often wonder, when I come back around to reclaim
what I go numb to when fear storms up a fog
and I can’t remember what I forgot to know,
that the heaviest thing we’re asked to do
is to trust and then let go.
It's a generous wind blowing, stirring long-discarded dreams:) Put out your hands and drop down in your belly to that place where you open and give your yes or close up hard and grit your no. Love waits for you there with a wealth of grace waiting to be the breeze you ride out beyond the breakers and into the song of your deep:)
“Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forest of our lives.”
I want to give away a copy of my November zine; leave a comment and I’ll plunk your name into the hat this week:)
I love it when you share……thanks for joining the conversation.