Fallen

This leaf waited for me.  It sprouted, grew strong and green way up high.  It weathered rainstorms and wind, heat and drought.  It held on tight during the earthquake and the hurricane.  It watched me come and go, watched me walk back and forth to my mailbox hundreds of times.  It witnessed my face lifted in joy.  It watched my shoulders heavy with burden.  It held tight, and it waited.

And today, something shifted or something inspired.  A sacred whisper urged, “Now.”  And of all the leaves falling and all the leaves on the ground, this one is the one I saw.  This is the one that came to me in this time and in this place.  In its ancient rite of transformation, of dying, it came to heal me and remind me that there is beauty even here.  It came to me.  I came to it.  And in that union, we were made ready for what is next. 

Don’t be dismayed.

Holy hands are everywhere.