The truest freedom comes
and confidently announces its name
in a whisper,
by the realization received that
I don’t really matter, or rather
that I have my place in all that is
without all the crazy striving
the accomplishing the pushing the
transmuting of be into do,
the feathering of my own nest.
The best truth comes unbidden
just knowing without learning
that the best feathers have always been
not those I have carefully collected and
examined identified and named,
but instead the ones that simply drifted down
unbidden through life’s air and landed
in their comfort, where they are meant to be
according to the Love who every morning
is challenged, and every evening repeats
as the light dies, nevertheless,
this shall be.
[JPM, 9.3.14]
Believe it. 