Letting go

A response in the quiet. (4.10.25)

a waterfalls memory 
carved in stone 

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On the way up the trail to a famous waterfall crashing in the distance, was this carved stone. Long ago, it was once a stream. As the stone received the water, it softened over time. Softer, and softer. Deeper, and deeper. Slowly it let itself fade into the stream. Holding on less, and less. Everyday it sat, watching itself slip away.

So I sat and wondered what I was afraid to let go of.