nothing left of me

I am not a striving, succeeding human, 

I am a worm in the soil, a leaf on a tree,

A rabbit in the garden, a berry on a bush,

A drop of water in a river from mountain to sea.

I exist yes, but I accomplish only what everything does.

I am not better or worse than you, or her or him;

I am next to everyone in the current as we flow.

Do not tell me I have failed, or I am good.

Whisper only to me in the language of the wind:

Are you here? Do you see? Let us go.

All else is decay, distraction, delusion.

When you clench your fist around your goods,

Your houses, your machines, your monies

You clench your fist around your heart—

Do you feel the squeeze inside?

You think you are right, you are winning,

But you are only lonely and do not know the wind.

So I say: do not strive, I will not strive,

I will worm, I will flutter, I will nibble, I will flow

I will release and become, release and become

Until there is nothing left of me but everything.