Blown by the wind
Swaying back and forth like the branches of the tree,
I remember that I am.
I am the wind.
I am the tree.
Yet still,
the wind seems to push me.
How is this so?
Although I know
that I am,
my attachment to this separate me
causes me to forget
that I am.
These limbs I have are only an extension
of the
I am.
My mind too
an extension..
Yet still,
I fall back into this person-ality,
this extension of who
I truly am..
I know there's nothing wrong
with this swaying in the wind.
Each time I remember
that I am,
I become more rooted to Source.
This is the art of life.
This is the dance of life.
