Nature is poetic. It speaks the language of the soul. If you sit and observe the movements of the natural world, pressing the pause button on thought, nature can touch you in a place, the heart, the soul, somewhere known yet unknown, and inspire a feeling, a sense, a something in that somewhere known yet unknown.
When trees let go of their leaves, there is a heart-breaking beauty in the act. Those leaves are like tears being shed, but are they tears of sadness, of nostalgia for the Summer which is now becoming a memory, or of release.
When we let go, of a time, a place, a person, we grieve that which is being released, which once meant everything to us, still means a lot, but we can no longer carry it with us where we are going. Perhaps it once propelled us forward, but now it is holding us back. We wish it could go with us, but it can’t.
If deciduous trees held onto their leaves instead of letting them go… then what? The ground would not be covered by their tears, and those tears would not be absorbed by the earth and turned into nourishment to feed the roots of those trees.
So it is with us. A love that has turned into hate, or grief, is not love lost, it is love changing like the seasons. It still nourishes us but in a different way. We let it go so that it can flow and so can we, but it is always a part of us, our being, feeding us, giving us a push and urging us forward.
Letting go is hard, holding on is harder… let nature be your guide. Your muse. Listen to her visual poetry.