A bird flies overhead,

magnificent in its form and grace,

perfection in flight.

So present in its existence, movement, and being.

So seemingly joyful and at ease, even as it efforts to ride the currents of air, finding its own way.

A feather lies on the ground,

long, lush, and of complex substance and form,

once essential to the bird’s form and function.

Even the bird,

relying so heavily on its feathers for form, movement, and survival,

molts and looses critical parts of itself to maintain its dynamic essence and functional existence,

growing into its fullest capacity.

It does not wallow in the loss of its parts.

It revels in the new found strength and skill that comes from letting go

and reforming with integrity

and wholeness

over and over again.