Young trees are no less wise than old
to know their leaves, now green, now gold,
want wind and rain and light to feed
them, and no more than what they need,
and, owning nothing, trusting, know
to let it go, to let it go.
I walk within their shaded haunt
to learn simplicity: to want
what my soul wants and hungers for,
but not possess, and nothing more,
but by a will not mine to bless
this poverty, and nothing less.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net