A short poem about impermanence — not just realizing it, but embracing it for all beings.

Photo by Min An on Pexels

Falling…
under drops, under cloud,
in the air, toward the ground,
and in that moment brief between,
drifting — ever so slowly.

Falling…
like a leaf, once so green,
then so bright and to be seen—
but now so faded, brittle, brown:
free at last to be lowly.

Falling…
not unwilling, never wronged,
neither fatefully drawn along,
but for goodness— for the earth!
To my source I go wholly.

Poet; writer of imaginative fiction; lover of works of ancient wisdom and myth, explores the intersection of wisdom, poetry and imagination. Follow @CaelanRowan

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