I used to always think
that I was giving it all away
with every word I uttered
every feeling that I shared
every touch exchanged
I thought I gave it all away.
Then I saw the trees did not
keep track of all the leaves it dropped
or the winds that whipped it back and forth
or the scars the other beings left.
The trees did not keep track
of every leaf that fell.
In the falling is the letting go.
In the letting go is the setting free.
In the setting free is the coming together.
In the coming together we cycle back again.
The sharing never meant that I
was losing any parts of me,
or giving anything away.
I let the pieces of me, like leaves,
drop and fall away, and return
to the place from which we came:
the ground, the earth, the everything.
Sometimes I write them, sometimes I share them.