The cup floating in the limitless ocean fills,
then sinks soundlessly.
The tree stretches its leafy crown,
decade by decade,
up to glory.
The egg-bound chick
hears the murmur of the world,
just before its natal peck.I
An ending begins,
and before it ends, a new beginning begins.
I am the cup filling in the ocean.
When I runneth over,
I sink and become one with my source.
I am the tree’s leafy crown.
I am the oldest and highest part of the tree.
The older I get,
the more I rise.
Until I die in glory.
I am the eggbound chick,
ready to break into a new world.
I hear it murmuring.
Death of eggshell, Birth of spirit.
I am the eggshell.
I served my purpose well.
Harboring the aliveness within me,
until it was ready to emerge.
I am the murmuring world.
Myriad voices of people, animals, streams and trees.
I speak and few listen.