Letting Go

Growing up and letting go,
Flowing like the clear stream,
From tip of the fall,
To the vast ocean,
Life is all about letting go.

The seed in the soil,
Lets go to the sapling supple,
Innocent, soft, and naive.
The sapling lets go to the huge firm tree,
Giving shade to the travelers weary.
The tree lets go her flowers and the fruits,
And then after years of giving,
She lets go herself to the Mother Earth,
Mingling to the dust, from where she came.
Letting go for another seed, another sapling,
Fruits and Flowers anew,
With colors more vibrant,
And songs more melodious and novel.

The infant lets go to be the toddler,
The toddler lets go to the teen,
The teen, to the adult, and then to the old.
Finally all lets go to the finality of death,
Just to open up new possibilities,
Of new generation, better and more beautiful.

The whisper of the hidden hopes of the expectant dawn,
Lets go to the crimson quietness of the tired dusk,
The throbbing heart of arduous passion,
Lets go to the awareness of the transience to unfurl,
Into the cold spread of the reality of pain.

In this game of letting go,
Its exciting to be part of the roller coaster,
Letting go the hope, equally with fear.
Letting go acceptance, equally with rejection.
Letting go pride, equally with embarrassment.
Letting go all that a man can have,
Letting go all that a man can be.

It is that surrender to the mere suchness,
The suchness that I was when I was born.
The suchness, that I will be when I die.
The suchness, that I was always before I existed.
The suchness, that I will be eons after I die.

All this play is a transient rising tide.
It will rise, and then gain fall,
Mingling into the eternal train of the line of eternity.
Nothing matters,
At the same time,
All that is - Is just this. And nothing else.

In this practice of letting go,
Somewhere deep inside my heart,
A deep ridge is sown,
With love, understanding, compassion, openness and courage.
In this breaking apart in openness and surrender,
I absorb the nectar of being alive,
In all its color, sound, smell and appearance,
Knowing for the first time, every moment,
Yet again and again,
Who am I, and who am I not.
Engulfing the eternal expanse of life,
Within me, All that his human, All that is life.
Both in its exquisite zenith of inspiration,
And it its darkest nadir of existence.

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