I watched a leaf fall from the hackberry tree.
Not yet entirely yellowed,
still, it just let go and fell.
There was no graceful dance
on its way to earth,
just a swift plummet.

That’s what my heart does
when I think of the day ahead.
Celebrating a life that was vibrant,
not quite done.
Yet it was her time to fall,
back into the welcoming arms of Mother Earth.

Pandemic protocols kept us from our goodbyes face to face
making it feel unreal.
Hearts though, leap space and time,
walls and protocols
carrying our farewells.

I like to imagine that her leave-taking
was more graceful than the hackberry leaf,
that she danced her way
into the arms of eternity
with that twinkle in her eyes
and joy on her lips.

As is the way,
both leaf and human return to the Earth.
The eagle and I sit vigil,
while the tiny wren sings them home.

Lynda Allen is first and foremost a listener. All of her work whether it's writing, art, creating Animal Wisdom Journals or leading meditation begins with deep listening. Lynda listens to her own inner knowing and wisdom, the natural world and the still, small voice of the Divine in the silence. She listens. Then she creates. In all of her creations she strives to inspire others to open their hearts and embrace their journey, both the dark and the light, with gentleness, love and joy. Her new collection of poetry and essays "Grace Reflected" is now available. You can learn more about the many offerings of Lynda’s heart at her website.

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