Autumn oxymoron

Falling
on the ground,
leaves
scattered,
Are they still leaves?

Hopping,
on the ground,
birds
pecking all day
Are they still birds?

wish i could hang around like a hammock..
waiting for someone to rock me...
that life is not up in the sky, tree
or down on the ground,
nor a push to move
or pull to get close,
nor left or right ideologue

Nor life is an OR,
but an AND..

In between,
the stillness and suspension of breathing..

wishing I could..

wish I could savor the moment..
the unfound peace in contradictions of the little atoms in me.