The Trajectory of Falling Leaves

Yesterday, you asked: “tell me, what does ‘freedom’ mean to you?”

And, for several minutes after processing this question,

I couldn’t speak.

Caught between who I aim to be, and

A past that doggedly, somewhat relentlessly

Pesters this present

Version of me.

Answers appeared, when

Suddenly I found

My selves walking, breathing,

Supporting all the

Peace that is possible

In these imperfect

Moments of being.

When you realize

There is no

Missing tile, in

The mosaic of

This pulsing stream –

Except the one

You habitually seek –

Then, you are ‘free’.

When you stop

Trying to predict

The trajectory of

Falling leaves, and

Instead notice how

They burn like shooting stars

Spreading their light, and

Gaining speed. Even,

At the brink.

Then, it does not matter if

They float or sink;

Or, are swept away

By the stream.

Just inhale the intoxicating perfumes

They release.......Ah, 

Death never smelled so sweet.

Then, it all unfolds like

A Golden Bowl of Love : 

Brimming, with

Plenty to share.

(*For: Salsa Sarah and TJ Rogers: Two giving souls, brimming with so much goodness that they are willing and eager to share. You bring so many blessings. The world needs the work that you do. Thank you. <3 )