wife. mother. teacher. recovering scaredy cat
I sit at kitchen window, as they fall without a sound.
These pointed shapes with stems that always land on solid ground.
Months before they hung on high, green leaves lived out their calling.
No scampering squirrels or summer storms could force them into falling.
Today the fall winds blow, the humble tree, he senses this.
Unclenching fists of foliage, golds and reds no longer his.
It's now time to surrender what was once so tightly held.
He cannot hold what is not his, though he might feel compelled.
The petals find new purposes from all the letting go.
From canopy to compost they surrender to fall low.
I see those leaves, their arms stretched wide, soon kissing city streets.
My heart beats fast to think of faith and death defying feats.
Unlike my florid friends outside that drift, and float, I cling.
When new winds blow, I struggle to be carried without wing.
Instead I try to staple to my branch that now needs mended.
I long to stay high on my limb, so tidy and so tended.
The broken bark and winter wood, it begs me to let go.
It's time now for new seasons, seeking wonders I don’t know.
I fight to tear at limbs that once had held me so secure.
I’m frightened by the thought of knowing not what is for sure.
"Be free," I whisper softly, as I feel my fingers slip.
I see the open ground below, and tighten up my grip.
I’m not made for hard landings, broken pieces, shattered ends.
When falling means misfortune, I’d much rather try to bend.
And then I think of Jesus, how he let go of on high.
Came low to cling to wood and cross, to suffer and to die.
His matchless grace that saved me then, lives on to save me still.
The suffering he endured I do not know and never will.
By his breath he changes seasons and commands the winds to blow.
His hand reaches to save me, and to hear me he bends low..
And here I find my falling, not like leaf without a care.
My letting go means holding to the one my burden bares.
I’m free to find new places and new purposes in life.
Abandon can be found without the struggle or the strife.
The beauty of surrender, may my heart forever know.
I'm held in every season, there's no fear in letting go.