Surrender
is all around me
as leaves let go,
swirl in the wind
and fall to the ground.
Their brilliant colors
turn drab,
and soon they join the soil
they came from.
I know a leaf
is a 'lifeless' thing,
without a heart and soul.
Yet I wonder,
how did it know
to let go?
Why do some hang on
long after their siblings
have left?
As I find myself
pounding on closed doors,
I wonder,
how do I know when
to give up?
I try to pick the lock, thinking,
how can I surrender
after I've worked so hard?
I beg and plead
for entrance,
shouting,
Why won't
you open to me?
Have I done
all I can do?
Is it time
to surrender?
Maybe I have been
pounding on the wrong door.
Or perhaps I am just being stubborn.
I kneel
on my broken dreams and plans,
questions
swirling in my head.
There is no easy answer.
No pat phrase
to tell me what to do.
But this I know...
God tells the trees
when to drop their leaves..
And he tells them
when to burst into bud
once more.
Every year.
Without fail.
I step on pine needles
and crunch through frosted leaves
on the forest floor.
If he can guide
a soul-less tree,
he will surely
guide me,
whether through the arduous labor
of pressing on
or the aching hush
of surrender.
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