Nature makes immediate use. A tree falls and instantly the Earth curls with sweetened fingers around it. Animals move out, others move in. Mourning what has ended melds into the movement of becoming. There is no concern for judgement as it is the cleanest of flow.
Spending time in fertile forests, the power of active transitioning has me moved. A tree spends no time grieving its new recumbent alignment. If I imagine I am a tree, I can feel the gravity of the Earth beckoning me to release from the memory of where I once stood.
Nature perceives all occurrence as positive. She perceives no tragedy in change. I feel inspired by her commitment to rhythmic reality. She chants neither mantra of Journey nor Destination because Hers is to See and Absorb, Her action, of Being.
She is the Mother and in my moments of being With her, sitting, walking, touching, I behold my kinship. She is a Blessed Paragon. Her way can be my own.
One Reply to “A Blessed Paragon”
ben
amazing pic
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