Outside my window, in the tree across the street, a bundle of leaves sways unevenly in the December wind.
Bunched together, shriveled and unhappily alone on the otherwise bare branch they are forgotten and victim to the elements. In happier days they were bright green, now they simply are gray-brown and dry.
Hearts are not much different then trees. I feel this way. Nature shows herself outside of you to remind you that you too have roots, beauty, seasons. You can sleep and awaken. Die and be reborn. All in the same year. No one said you had to stay the same, in fact if you do-it is un-natural.
A seed takes root in winter, and the sapling doesn’t show right away. Maybe I too can take root slowly and say “thank you, thank you” and continue with my life with a secret seed of goodness. Maybe I too can be re-born. Maybe I too can let life have the letting go and the re-growing happen in a circle.
Maybe I don’t have to suffer for everything, after all?
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