Twisted branches reach for the sky
Gnarled fingers reaching high.
Many years they’ve seen gone by,
And now they stand and wonder why…

“Why, why did the wind just blow past
Leaving us to feel it last
Before it went and ran away
Standing alone at the end of the day?”

At this a breeze returned to speak:
“Oh, tree, you’re mighty, yet see how meek.
You think you are the source of me,
When this is not reality.

The wind you do not self-create.
Of this there can be no debate.
The wind was there before you grew.
You felt it as it blew through you.

A simple story of the tree,
But it applies as well to thee.
The ego thinks it causes all.
That it, alone, does stand there, tall.

But Spirit, like the wind, you see,
From ego’s grasp is completely free.
Without Spirit you’re nothing at all.
Like a tree, you would topple and fall.

So feel your spirit like the breeze
That rustles softly through the trees.
Know that it’s the ground of all being
And without it not a thing you’d be seeing.

You are powerless without the soul.
It’s the part of you that makes you whole.
Like wind and trees – a perfect team.
Body and soul complete the dream.