This morning’s sunrise meditation, set there beside the Neem tree stately growing, saw morning’s moisture collecting upon open-handed leaves. The leaves’ open heartedness welcomed every molecule of moisture, gave them a place of rest and an opportunity to gather themselves there on green pews. At the tip of each leaf where the once separated edges join purpose, the water vapor previously scattered becomes something greater than itself as dew’s droplets form. So is it that the many culminate into the One. Without the leaf this holy mass marriage could never be. What does the leaf say as the water arrives then departs? Does it feel used, sad or insignificant? No, rather it enjoys the presence of the water, its sacred lover, for the time it is there, thankful for every moment. As the drop approaches the leaf’s end it acknowledges the divine sharing, looks over the edge and lets go. The leaf neither remorses nor laments but rather bows with gratitude as the water, now a drop, touches upon the ground to nourish the roots that in turn nourish the leaf.
So is it that every act of bold love done without expectation, every good deed, every compassionate caress given and each and every exchange of personal will for divine will returns from whence it came.