I stand firmly on the ground,
balancing on this earthy mound.
As the winds of change do blow,
my body wobbles to and fro,
my mind, it spins and sways,
spiralling into a spinning maze,
but I stay rooted,
for I am not separate from the ground.
The wind blows harder and even though
my body may sway, bend, break, or flow,
I stay rooted,
for I am not separate from the ground.
Although my limbs and leaves will fall,
I stand tall, as I am the ground of all,
For I am more than this oak tree;
For I am as big as big can be.
What separates the ground from the tree?
What separates us all, you from me?
What stops you from seeing your true face,
that's here and there and every space,
pulsing like a heartbeat, alive as can be,
with forms as diverse as the ground and the tree?
No ground, no tree,
no you, no me.
Not one, not two,
Not me, not you.
What I am I cannot say,
only that it's all mind's play.
In this space of primordial mind,
no balance will you ever find.
For balance breaks as do my boughs,
as all things change within the now.
As my thoughts come tumbling down,
down to the earth, deep, dark, and brown,
falling like my crumbling leaves,
letting go as I stand in tree;
I stay rooted,
for I am not separate from the ground.
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, Angela Dawn MacKay
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