Monday, May 11, 2009


I was just pondering the beautiful process of Fall. A single tree. I often marvel at how its leaves float in the air and down upon the ground....leaving shorn branches. "Barren". Sometimes to the eyes of our heart the tree looks gangly and awkward. Our beings latch onto the distress of fear which we believe we see in the tree's lack of leafy protection. In fact, in this state, it is at its most beautiful. It has the capacity to stand. Naked in its bareness. Transparently revealed in its audacious baldness. Bold.
The tree seems to cry out "Here I am. Here I am. I am solidly planted against outside hostile forces. Unbowed by the pinching breeze of negative winds of change. And yet. It is my pleasure to accept the positivity of a new flow. Because I KNOW ME. My tangled roots. They are divinely anchored in joy. I relish. I dance. My sap. Sweet. HERE I AM."
And then. And then. Somewhere between the seasons of Fall and the beginning of Spring a process occurs which prepares the tree for a newness of life. A smile encased within the call of love. A sigh. A flutter. Longing. Rebirth. Our eyes are then mercifully permitted to gingerly drink in the glory of the blossoming. Our spirits are enthralled by the rapture and journey of life's character. GRACE.
Yes, there is a unique strength in Fall which unfailingly rivals the breath of Spring.

Copyright 2008: Regina Y. Evans

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