This is a poem that appears in the book, A Simpler Way, by Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner Rogers. The poem is by American poet, A. R. Ammons. Both the book and the poem continue to mean much to me when I think of the need to both let go and welcome emergence.
I look for the way
things will turn
out spiraling from a center,
things will take to come forth in
so that the birch tree white
touched black at branches
will stand out
totally its apparent self:
I look for the forms
things want to come as
from the black wells of possibility,
how a thing will
not the shape on paper — though
that too — but the
uninterfering means on paper:
Not so much looking for the shape
as being available
to any shape that may be
from the self not mine but ours.
Yes to emergence, letting go, and simplicity.