Yielding Of The Spirit

In the lullaby of the evening, I hear

A murmur which softly resounds yet clear.

“Release your grasp, dear soul,” it says,

“Because this quest is not meant for your ways.”

I have fought against the currents, braved storms,

Yearning for places warm and safe from harm.

Yet now I realize that the path unfolds,

Not by my hand but by something bold.

Up there in the heavens, stars do shine,

As if they are telling me to trust their line.

For what I could hold on to or plan,

It all better slips than sand.

And here do I stand with no dread nor combat,

Offering my soul this night that’s dark.

To unknown winds and wide open skies,

I let my spirit fly free without a tie.

No longer am I subject to fear or want,

Life indeed is what I give myself to.

To love, to loss, and all that flows,

In surrending does one become true self?

I bend before things far more mighty than myself,

Offering myself without hesitation.

And in this act of sacred abandon

I finally understand light which was elusive for so long.