Its Own Perfection



Snow falls
Lightly –
Yet branches soon bend to the
Weight of storm and time.
In my warmth…I watch,
Grateful for the strength of branches, for the
Lightness and easy fall of snow, and
Even for the weight of time.

Soon the storm will pass…and perhaps
Grown heavy with the grace of their
Burden – branches will snap.
Every moment holds its own perfection.

~

 

And too often is seems we overlook the perfection of each moment we are graced with - the co-inciding of countless forces to bring us to - this. We are here, full of breath and life and a heart that beats in tune with earth and stars. There are no accidents - we are here to be of this perfection.

 

Peace,

 

Eric