Trees

 

Here I am, appearing as a sound of a bird. 

Here I am, as the wind, moving through the grass.

Here I am.

Love is hiding inside me, but what is me?

There is no inside and no outside.

Love takes control of this body, 

makes it move through space and time.

Love listens to the story of my past, 

and me believes it is true, but no stories are the truth.

The truth is I, I am is the truth.

Here I am. 

Take away what is not true, and left is only I.

No past, no future, just I.

Here I am, appearing as a tree,

disappearing as me.

Here I am.

 -Nanne Nyander