The oak leaf falls before me on the path I walk.
A blessing to my journey through the labyrinth.
Teaching me release, death,
is all just transition
from one world to the next.
No need to look back.
Does the oak tree grieve and long
for the leaf that has fallen from its branches?
No, moreso, gives gratitude
for the fallen leaf lain on the ground.
Gratitude for its service,
for the growth of the whole.
The tree stands still, the tree still lives.
It lives moreso, stronger for the growth of the leaf,
for the falling of that leaf,
for the passing of that leaf.
New leaves will grow as the cycles turn.
The stronger we grow,
keep moving along the path of the unknown,
knowing all is well.
It is just the cycle of the seasons.

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