Have you ever noticed a tree standing naked against the sky, 
How beautiful it is?  
All its branches are outlined,
and in its nakedness 
There is a poem, there is a song.  
Every leaf is gone
and it is waiting for the spring.  
When the spring comes,
it again fills the tree with 
The music of many leaves, 
Which in due season
fall and are blown away.  
And this is the way of life.

Krishnamurti