Sitting in stillness,
on a rock, in a river,
I watched trees and
leaves let go of each
other, and wondered
whose decision it was,
if the leaf said, “I
must go,” or the tree
said, “You must go,”
or perhaps they didn’t
have to speak at all,
just knew, from that
deep well of knowing,
that it was time.

And as the leaves floated
through the air, arching
and spinning away
from the trees,
I felt peace sit down
next to me, and whisper
what I had forgotten.