Posted in Beauty


Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life…
― Herman Hesse

trees shedding leaves

I need your inspiration,
your holiness of being,
as you stand tall in sunshine, and keep me believing…

you surrender your dead weight
with charm and poise,
while still deeply connected to nourishing soils…

And as your dry leaves wither,
and dance to the ground,
a mystical vibration of love is all around…

I’ve translated the symbols
envisioned my needs,
I’ve broken up with envy
in readiness
I receive…

your merciful guidelines, through seasons of fall,
when grace is reimagined
and faith is reinstalled…

Like an elegant changeling, your beauty is unique,
at times of abundance
at times simply bleak…

I feel your introspection
your silent applause,
in wintery celebration, when nature takes a pause…

And beneath grounds
of knowing,
lies an ancient intention,
that spring will rise again with bountiful affection…




I am an unknown introvert who desires to touch the world with a little bit of magic...

4 thoughts on “Changeling…

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