Rising to Your level the air is fresh and sweet. The clouds roll lazily past me as I drift though the stream. It was always this You remind me. What we might call lazy. You said is ours to enjoy.
Rising to Your level You reach Your hand toward me. Outstretched and hopeful I grasp for what I need. Quietly accepting the service I must employ. The gentle knowing that I am here to bring You joy.
Rising to Your level I sweep a sigh aside as the fresh, gentle breezes pull me to the sky. Open is a spiral drifting in front of me. Quietly I accept it pulling forward I no longer seek. Instead there is acceptance. An inner knowing that is strong. Open to the flow of the universal song.