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  • The tree does not hold
    onto the broken branch.
    It lets go of its dead limbs,
    it lets go of useless weight,
    it lets go of that which it once loved.

    To hold onto the fallen shaft
    is to create sickness in the trunk,
    to dam and hinder the organic flow,
    to live an artificial and hollow life
    until all fluidity has run out.

    To let go is to love in its purest form.
    An open heart never holds on too tight.
    It opens and closes its valves,
    ruby-red blossoms full of joy, and
    sweet perfume in every scarlet smile.

    Freedom is the currency of love.
    Free to come and go I stay by your side,
    free to give and take I grow large and tall,
    free to cry and laugh I am a song in the sky.
    My little bird open up your wings, and fly.
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