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.